Resource Management
by Thorkone
Summary: **SEQUEL TO HUMAN RESOURCES** When SHIELD is attacked, Anna and Coulson find their budding romance put to the test. Obviously the whole gang will be there, and there may even be some appearances by members of the Avengers Initiative.
1. Chapter 1

**Please note this is a sequel and you will be lost unless you read Human Resources first. **

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here?" Erin asked as I rushed into our office.

"I have a whole pile of emails that need dealing with, and like, 2 hours to deal with them." I explained. "I have a date, and I need to get changed and back here before four."

Erin shook her head.

"You recall you had your email set to forward to me, right? Like I'm doing to you next week? There are no fires for you to put out, Annie. Just go." She shooed me away before I could even turn on my display. I left my bag under my desk and started back out the door.

"You're a lifesaver! I have to stop at Tops and Bottoms." I called over my shoulder. Erin followed me through the door.

"Wait a minute. You have a date? With who? Who rates brand new lingerie?"

"I need a new bra, you perv!" I laughed and headed for the elevator.

"That was a two part question, Annie Ellis!" Erin called from our office door. I waved and stepped on the elevator.

Tops and Bottoms was a tiny boutique near my apartment. I honestly didn't understand how the woman stayed in business because there was never anyone in there other than me, but given the price of the bras she sold, she probably only needed to sell a couple a week to pay her overhead. Woe unto the woman with a full bust. You practically needed a mortgage to buy them. I'd been thinking about a couple of new bras for a month or so, and I'd been in the shop the previous week. She had exactly what I wanted.

"Anna! I just had a shipment of your bra. It came in three different colours, and they're all so fantastic." Helena exclaimed as I stepped into the store. I let her rummage around in the special little stock closet she kept behind the desk, and browsed for a few moments, but the bra I'd seen last time I was in was missing.

"Helena, you had a demi-cup in bright green last time I was in?" I asked. She turned and nodded.

"I have one left in your size. You will try it on?" Helena's heavy German accent made her sound so much authoritative than she really was. She led me to the fitting room and handed me the bras to try. With a quick glance at my watch, I rushed to try them on. Helena poked her head in when I was decent, and adjusted and tugged and tweaked at me a little before declaring my 'usual' too big.

"Did you lose weight, Anna?" She demanded, her eyebrow buried in her heavy bangs.

"I just spend a week running ten kilometres a day. I might have dropped a pound at most?" I didn't think I was any smaller.

"This band is too big. Try the green, it fits snugger. I'll see about a smaller band in your other bra." She disappeared back into the store and left me to try the green bra on. It was perfect. Helena even nodded her approval when she slipped back into the change room. She left the other bra for me to try and then fussed over it a little before deciding it was a better fit. She must have sensed I was in a hurry. She wrapped the bras in tissue and handed them to me as I signed the credit card slip.

"Thanks, Helena. You're always so awesome." I smiled as I was leaving.

"I love to see you, darling. Come to visit sometime. You don't need to be buying a bra to come in." She kissed both my cheeks and gave me a quick hug. "When you have time to tell me about the new man in your life."

I felt my cheeks heating and shook my head. The woman was too perceptive by far. I stopped for a coffee on the short walk home, and checked my watch again before I took a shower. I had a couple hours, but getting back to the Triskelion on transit was going to take at least a half hour, so I didn't have time to waste. I wrapped myself in a towel as I stepped out of the shower, and rubbed at my hair as I padded into my bedroom. I carefully pulled out a blouse and pencil skirt and laid them across the bed before drying and styling my hair and applying make up.

I took an appraising look in the mirror. My hair was down, straightened, and pushed behind my ears, and I had somehow managed to get my eyeliner perfect. The blouse was just sheer enough to remind Coulson of the day we met, and the green bra completed the look. I pulled a blazer over it, grabbed my purse and headed back to work.

XXX

A low whistle greeted me as I stepped back into my office, at 3:30. Erin stepped around her desk and held her hands out in surprise.

"Damn girl." She let out an impressed breath. "So tell me about SHIELD summer camp, while we wait for the mystery man."

I sat down and rubbed my eyes.

"It wasn't terrible. Jackson is out of his league, and was floundering all week. I think it will be better for you. We only had three classes: Hand-to-hand, range, and fitness. The fitness was brutal. Two five kilometre runs a day. Aside from the fitness class, you can test out of the other two if you're proficient."

"So you tested out of hand-to-hand." She assumed.

"Sure did. I needed the extra time to spend on the range." I laughed. "Oh, I have glasses now. For shooting. And apparently reading."

"That's funny." Erin snorted.

"Shut up. I only skimmed my email. What was up this week? I saw four Starks awaiting investigation." I changed the subject.

"Well, he was in the office on Wednesday. And he was in fine form." Erin laughed.

"Oh god, do I have to run a harassment seminar with him in it again?" I groaned.

"You sure do!" Erin slid a piece of paper across the desk. I was a list of who would be in the seminar the next week. Tony Stark's name was on the top of the list.

"This is lucky number seven, isn't it?" I groaned. "Do you think he'll show?"

"He told me he couldn't wait. He said that the last challenge in his life is to rattle you enough to file a report yourself." Erin rolled her eyes.

"Taze him." I heard Coulson say from the door, and rose. If Erin had been a cartoon character, her jaw would have unhinged and dropped on the floor. She couldn't have been more surprised.

"Hey Agent Coulson. What brings you in?" She stammered. Coulson stepped into the office and smiled.

"Picking up Anna. We have reservations for dinner." He offered his hand. I reached for my travel bag and purse.

"Just need to drop my bag at home on the way, if that's alright." I asked. He nodded. Erin sat, mouth agape. "G'night, Erin."

"Yeah." She called out the door as I took Coulson's hand and left.

XXX

I gave Coulson directions to my place once I was buckled into Lola. I resisted the urge to run my hands along the chrome, and pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail for the drive. By some strange miracle, he found a parking spot right in front of my apartment building.

"It's a little chaotic still from my panicked packing." I apologized as I opened the door. I flipped the switch to turn on the living room light, and took my bag down to my room.

"Why do women insist on apologizing for the state of their homes?" He pondered from the living room.

"That has a vaguely sexist undertone to it, Phil." I warned as I hung up my blazer. I pulled the tie out of my hair and fluffed it up quickly.

"I don't mean it that way. I just haven't ever met a woman who hasn't felt obligated to apologize for a non-existent me –" He trailed off as I walked back into the living room. I slipped past him toward the kitchen.

"Drink? Or do we have time?" I offered. He loosened his tie and popped the top button of his shirt.

"I thought you said that bra got ruined." He stammered. I pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer and poured us each a drink.

"Little secret about me. I like my vodka neat. Do you want ice?" I avoided responding. Coulson stepped around the tiny island and traced his finger along the collar of my blouse. I purposely popped a button open when I was in my room, so he was able to fully take in the lace on the demi cups. I probably could have been an evil mastermind, had I set my mind to it. Coulson's eyes dilated as his fingers caught on the edge of the lace.

"You weren't hungry then?" He asked and slid an arm behind my back, pulling me against him roughly. I leaned back and smiled.

"I'm starving. I was too busy this afternoon to eat." I admitted. Coulson dipped his head to my neck and kissed just below my ear. I bit my lip as he trailed down my neck and dropped kisses along my collarbone.

"You're going to put me in an early grave, Anna." He groaned. I stiffened.

"Don't kid about that, Phil." I pushed him up to look in his eyes. "Please."

"Bad choice of words." He agreed, and picked up his glass. He moved to the living room and sat down on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. I sat down; my legs tucked up beside me and leaned into his open arm.

"Any exciting cases next week?" I asked.

"Nothing yet. I've got some stuff to look into. Unless something changes, we'll be nearby for most of the week." He kissed my forehead.

"That sounds nice. It'll be good to enjoy some humanity after dealing with Stark for three days." I laughed.

"Stark isn't all bad. Mostly just spoiled." Coulson offered.

"He deliberately looks for people's buttons. Like this harassment shit. I don't think he's the huge sexist he makes himself look like. Look at who is running Stark Industries. He couldn't be a sexist with a woman that capable in charge. So why act like he is when he's consulting?" I grumbled.

"Because he can." Coulson laughed and finished his drink. "Has anyone even turned the tables on him?"

"Can you turn the tables on him? His brain processes a mile a minute. He might play you into a corner, if he realized what you were up to."

"Friendly wager. Turn the tables on him. Wear this bra, and this top. And be mercenary. I bet he'll break before you do." Coulson smiled. It was the smile I was beginning to associate with his particular twisted humour, and strangely, I trusted him most when I saw it.

"What's the wager then?" My eyes narrowed. Coulson knew Stark better than I did.

"If I'm wrong, I'll cook you dinner next week." He wagered.

"And if you're right?" I prompted. He smiled.

"You cook me dinner." He suggested. I nodded. It almost seemed too fair.

"Okay." I shot him a wary look. He rolled his eyes and kissed my forehead.

"Drink up. We've got dinner reservations." He pulled his tie off and unbuttoned the next button down.

"Am I dressed okay, or do I need to put on something fancier?" I asked. He pulled me to my feet and stole a kiss.

"You're perfect." He assured me.

XXX

I'm not sure I'd ever been in a restaurant as classy as the one Phil had chosen. My stomach flipped over as I took in the opulent chandeliers, and gorgeous furnishings. This was a serious first date. Never mind that we'd put the cart before the horse, Coulson was taking this seriously. My stomach fluttered again, and my hand was just a little shaky as I reached for my glass of wine. Everything on the menu looked incredible and terribly elegant, and there was a distinct lack of pricing anywhere. I could feel a wave of panic cresting below my diaphragm. Coulson and I both lived on SHIELD salaries. He already had the extravagance of Lola, there was no way he could be dropping his credit card on ridiculously expensive meals too. I took another sip of my wine as I examined the menu.

"Have you any questions about the menu?" The waited had slipped up silently as I was focused on the font choice in the menu.

"What would you recommend? It all looks so amazing." I asked.

"Well, I would likely be reprimanded if I didn't recommend the filet mignon, however, I enjoy the wine braised pork loin much better." He offered. "It is served with seasonal vegetables."

"That sounds perfect, thank you." I closed my menu. Coulson nodded.

"Yes, I'll have that as well." He agreed. The waiter took our menus and departed. Coulson reached across the table, and twined his fingers in mine. "You look nervous, Anna."

"I've never eaten somewhere so fancy before, Phil. What if I don't know which fork to use?" I tipped my head to my place setting. Phil's smile was immediate and put me completely at ease.

"Take a look at the tables around us. I've seen your table manners. You're fine." He reassured me. I glanced to either side of us, and saw that no one had really figured out the cutlery situation. I stifled a snort of amusement and took another sip from my glass.

I'd always lived with the assumption that the fancier the restaurant, the longer the wait for the food, but our meals reached us within a reasonable amount of time. Which was probably good because my stomach had started singing the song of its people after about ten minutes, much to my mortification. We were just finishing when Coulson's phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket and looked at the screen, grimacing.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this." He stood and answered as he walked to the front of the restaurant. I finished my wine and watched him pace outside the restaurant window, one hand gesturing at someone who couldn't see the exasperation in the expression. His shoulders heaved and he put the phone away before walking back into the restaurant.

"Is everything okay?" I asked when he sat down.

"I have to cut this short, unfortunately. I have to get back to the bus. We've got a lead on one of the people we've been pursuing for a long time." The apology was conveyed by the tone of his voice. I nodded.

"I understand. Do you need me to take a cab home?" I asked. He shook his head as he waved the waiter over.

"No, I can get you home. I just can't come in for a nightcap." He handed the waiter his credit card.

There wasn't really anything to talk about on the drive back that wouldn't have felt contrived. Coulson's mind was elsewhere, and I didn't mind the silence. Whatever freakish luck he'd acquired earlier had stayed with him, and once again, he found a parking spot in front of my building. He walked me to my door and waited as I fumbled with the lock.

"It sucks that you're being called away, but thanks, Phil. I really enjoyed dinner." I turned to face him once the door was open.

"I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I can." He paused. "I've never been able to say that to a woman I've been seeing before. That felt nice."

I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks.

"Are we?" I asked.

"What?"

"Seeing each other?" I prompted. He stepped closer to me, sliding his hands along my waist. He leaned forward and kissed me. There was no lascivious intent, no searing soul-rending passion, but a gentle, steady comfort that turned me on in ways other kisses never had. His kiss held the promise of more, of future nights where we wouldn't be interrupted by work.

"Definitely." He pushed a strand of hair off my face.

"I can't wait to draw a heart around your name on my math binder." I teased. He shook his head and kissed me again, this time more aggressively. I pulled him inside and shut the door, and he shoved me into it. Ah. There was the searing, and soul-rending. My breath drew short and I pushed him away.

"I need to go." He murmured against my cheek.

"If you don't, I'm not going to let you." I threatened. He kissed me one last time, and drew a finger down the front of my blouse, staring wistfully at the green bra. He finally pulled away and reached for the door handle. I stepped away from it to allow him passage.

"Good night, Anna." He departed. I threw the bolt once he was gone. Sighing in disappointment, I headed to bed, alone.

* * *

**Hey gang. I'm back. I am having profound issues with my OF so I thought I'd write some cobwebs out and work on the other project in my free time. Because there's so much of it...**

**~TK**


	2. Chapter 2

The ringing would not stop, and I reached over to my night table, smashing my hand around to stop it. And yet, it persisted. I finally opened one eye and saw my phone sliding around on the sleek finish of the dark wood, the screen lit up, the ringing getting louder. Served me right for picking a horrible ringtone that got more persistent the longer it was ignored. I slid my finger across the screen and brought it to my ear.

"Hello?" I croaked, my throat dry. I must have been sleeping on my back.

"I can't run." Erin's tone was panicked.

"What?"

"I tried to go for a run this morning because of next week. And I can't do it. My knee starts to hurt after about a hundred feet and there's this weird pain in my hip and my chest hurts and there's a weird pain in my side now and all I did was walk a mile." She drew in a deep breath.

"Okay. The knee and hip are an issue. Your chest hurts because you're out of shape. The weird pain is for the same reason." I hoped my tone was soothing because my words sure weren't.

"What do I do?" She wailed. I pulled the phone away from my ear, and yawned.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Outside your door. I have been banging for at least five minutes." She gasped. "Oh my god, are you banging? Am I interrupting you and Agent Coulson?"

"He's not here. What time is it?" I sat up and stretched before padding into the bathroom.

"It's noon. Did I wake you up?" She shrieked, and I could hear it through my front door.

"Okay, I am hanging up now. I have to pee. I'll be there in a minute." I ended the call and shut the bathroom door, in case she could hear me through the apparently paper thin walls of my building. I brushed my hair and teeth when I was done and stumbled to the door, yawning and scratching my butt. I pulled open the door mid-yawn, and held it wide.

"Wow. I can totally see what Coulson sees in you. That's a fine ass-scratch you've got there."

"You'll understand next weekend. Coffee?" I offered and headed to the machine to make us some.

"What am I going to do about my knee?" Erin threw herself onto the loveseat in my living room. I brought out a mug to her and returned to the kitchen for mine before sitting on the couch.

"We're going to find a real running store and see if there's an issue with your feet. And then I'm going to text my physiotherapist and see if she can't sneak you in this afternoon." I inhaled the steamy aroma of my coffee before sipping.

"Your physio works Saturday?" She asked.

"Yeah, she caters to a lot of the Monday-Friday crowd so she takes Sunday and Monday off, and opens and closes late during the rest of the week." I typed a quick message to the physio office and sent it.

"I feel like something terrible is going to happen at the academy." Erin blurted.

"Nah, you'll be fine. Just don't try to sneak into the hot tub." I reassured her. I finished my coffee and made the requisite noises when Erin paused in the narrative of what had happened while I was gone. I appreciated the debriefing, as it would put any emails and to do lists she left behind into context. When my coffee was finished, I excused myself to have a shower and get ready to go out. Erin was busy googling running stores. My phone chimed as I was toweling off, and I ignored it, assuming it was the physio office. It chimed again right away, and then again. I picked it up and checked the messages.

'_Should be back on Wednesday_.' It was Coulson.

'_Please buy a bottle of whiskey. It's been a long 12 hours already_.' If a text message could convey a tone, I was getting it from that message.

'_I'll bring a pizza. Any requests?_' I suspected he was hiding out from his team in order to text me.

'_Chicken, Feta, Peppers, Bacon._' I typed back, and added a selfie in my towel. '_Miss you._'

'_I'm now aiming for Tuesday._' He responded. I got dressed quickly, and my phone chimed again, but this time it was the physio office saying they could get Erin in as soon as we got there.

"Erin, let's go! Physio can do you now." I called as I grabbed my car keys. Erin jumped off the couch.

XXX

Erin's movements were smoother and her shoulders had dropped when she came out of the physio office. She was no longer favouring her right side and she wagged a piece of paper in front of me with a half smile. The gleam in her eyes was mercenary.

"If that's a note to get out of running, I will scream." I stood and followed her back to my car.

"No such luck. However, I need a better pair of shoes. She has a written list of recommendations for the salesperson, she recommended a store, and she gave me a list of exercises to do to help. And a note that should help me get these shoes covered by medical insurance." She flopped back into her seat and sighed in contentment. The running store was in a small storefront in the ground level of an apartment complex. When we entered, a salesperson greeted us, but didn't pounce. We looked around for a few minutes, and Erin pulled out the piece of paper. As though it was a cue, the same guy who'd greeted us came over and offered to help. Erin explained her situation, and he looked over the notes from the physiotherapist before heading to the back. He came out with five pairs of runners to try. Erin went to work trying them on.

"Is there anything you need, while we wait on your friend?" He asked.

"I don't think so. I think the runners I have are okay. I get a little twinge in my ankle, but I've always got that from running." I answered. He checked on Erin and helped her lace another pair of shoes.

"Can I look at your gait? That's really common, and we might be able to correct it." He offered.

"Uh, okay? When you've got Erin sorted." I agreed. Erin was disappointed to find that the most comfortable pair of runners was not the electric green pair, but the black ones that had the tiniest little fuschia stripe on them. It was my turn. The sales guy directed me to a treadmill, and instructed me on what to do. I ran for a couple of minutes and then stopped, winded.

"I have a pair of shoes that may help. And Erin will be jealous because they come in bright yellow. From watching your gait, I think your ankle is lacking support, and you pronate a little too much." He explained and then vanished to the back of the store. He returned with two pairs of shoes. When I had the first pair on, he made me run on the treadmill again. I was waiting for the pain to start, but it seemed the runners really did make a difference.

"Okay, I'm sold." I stepped off the treadmill.

"So you can take the yellow ones, or we have them in blue." He offered.

"Blue please."

I was ready for food by the time we finished paying. Erin suggested we try a little restaurant down the street from the shoe store. It was an excellent idea, and the quiet atmosphere gave us plenty of time to plan the rest of our day.

XXX

Like I had the weekend before, Erin was ready to blow off steam in order to mentally ready herself for the week ahead. In deference to my new relationship status, I kept it subdued, but Erin was like a peacock, colourful, gorgeous and showy as hell. I felt positively drab beside her, and sent a sassy text to Coulson to make myself feel better.

'_Erin wants to get wrecked. Am I allowed to let other men buy me drinks?_' I keyed in.

'_You are lucky that I am not busy right now._' Came the immediate response.

'_I'll take that as a yes. Too bad you aren't here to reap the benefits of someone else's hard work._' I replied.

'_Remind me why I like you?_'

'_Epic rack. Rapier wit. Dazzling intellect._' It was in order of importance, I thought.

'_Maybe I'll try to be back for Monday._'

Erin chose our usual bar, and ordered us drinks while I put my phone away. It didn't take long for her ready-to-party aura to attract a few interested men. I tried to put my all into flirting, but sadly, I couldn't stop thinking about Coulson. Well, it would have been sad, but I was too busy thinking about the next time I got to tear his clothes off, to be honest. Nonetheless, I did flirt successfully enough to get a mild buzz, and Erin was definitely the star of the night, so she wasn't complaining either.

I called her in the late morning to see how she was managing, and heard the phone answer, then crash to the floor, followed by a groan, some scratching and finally after a moment's silence, her raspy whispering voice.

"Who is the guy with his arm across me?" She asked. I stifled a laugh.

"Well, when I left, it was Matt-from-last-week. Peek at him. Is it?" I jogged her memory. I could hear the sheets slide as she turned.

"Yes. It is. I should go." She whispered.

"I'll bring pizza at around six." I figured fair was fair.

"Right. Oh god, I think he just woke up. Bye." The line went dead and I was left chuckling to myself.

Promptly at six, I knocked on her apartment door, pizza and beer in hand. She pulled it open and looked fresh. There were no telltale bags under her eyes, no puffiness. Her colour was good and she didn't turn green when she saw the pizza. It wasn't really fair. When I tied one on like that, I usually looked like crap the next day. Hell, if I had more than two drinks, I usually looked like hell the next day.

"Matt is SHIELD." Erin announced, snatching the pizza from my hands. I couldn't help myself. I laughed. "It's not funny, Annie."

"No, it's totally funny. So was Rick." I brushed past her to the kitchen, and grabbed us plates before meeting her in the living room.

"Shut up."

"Yeah, I was mortified."

"He doesn't know I know. But he talks in his sleep. And he kept talking about something on the helicarrier, and Captain Rogers." Erin had big hand gestures. Coupled with a slice of pizza, I was worried about my eye safety.

"He knows Captain America?" I wasn't sure she understood me over the mouthful of food.

"He was talking in his sleep. I wasn't about to press for details."

"I hope you don't have my luck. Rick was the fitness instructor at the academy." I offered.

"Awkward."

"Very." I agreed.

"So you didn't pull last night." She changed the subject as she dug into another slice.

"I'm kinda seeing Coulson." I shrugged.

"Jesus, what? I didn't realize it was serious." She was incredulous.

"It's been a week. Not even really." I stated. "I wouldn't say serious. But I really like him."

"Well, you always had the hots for him." Erin took a pull from her beer. "So it's not surprising."

"Not always." I protested. Erin quirked her eyebrow at me in disbelief.

"Yes, always."

There was really no defending it because it was true. He hadn't been my only work crush, but I didn't think the people involved with the Avengers Initiative really counted as attainable. And Thor did have a girlfriend. We watched crappy reality TV for a while and finished the pizza, and then sorted through her three suitcases and got her down to one carry on bag for the week, at her request. When I was finished, I headed home to bed, nervous about a week on my own in the office. And about the harassment seminar. And Tony Stark.

* * *

**Exposition, exposition, exposition. There is a plot, I promise.  
**

**~TK**


	3. Chapter 3

One hundred and seventy three emails. There were 173 emails in my inbox on Monday morning. I cursed myself for trusting Erin that I didn't need to check them. I filled my coffee cup and settled in for what was apparently going to be a really frantic and long morning. As I worked through the first fifty emails, I realized Erin really had been on top of most of everything, as I'd only had to deal with one issue. Mostly I was just filing the emails in the appropriate file. When my phone chimed, I barely heard it. It was buried in my purse, in the bottom drawer of my desk. It chimed a second time.

"_Did you remember what we talked about on Friday? Turn the tables on Stark today._" It was Coulson.

"_I like the idea of tazing him better._" I responded.

"_That is also a good option. But do it in a sexy, over-the-top, camp villain way._"

"_Camp villain?_"

"_Moose and Squirrel._" His response was almost instant. I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud. My email pinged, bringing me back to reality. I scrolled to the bottom of the window to see what had arrived. It was from Tony Stark. I took a deep breath and opened the message. _'The Stripper' _started blasting out of my speakers, and an animated gif of Stark himself, peeling off the Iron Man suit opened in fullscreen view. I had a 27" monitor. It was horrifying. And like a train wreck, I just couldn't look away. When there was nothing left but Stark in a frighteningly tight pair of American flag briefs, the music faded, and was replaced by Stark's voice. "_Can't wait to work with you this week, Ms. Ellis._"

"Good god. Save me." I sighed. Coulson was right. I was going to have to out-sexy him. I popped the second button on my blouse reluctantly. I glanced at the clock and opted to work through my coffee break. By lunch, I'd dealt with the first hundred emails. After checking on my room booking for the seminar, I headed to the cafeteria to fuel myself up for the afternoon ahead of me. The special was grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, which reminded me so much of being a little kid that I jumped at it. I was just taking my first bite when Stark sat down across from me.

"Ms. Ellis. You look ravishing today." He smiled. The man oozed charm and charisma, but having dealt with him so many times before, I knew better than to be lulled into complacency. I pulled out my heavy arsenal, blinking slowly, looking up through my lashes and smiling seductively at him.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Stark." I murmured. His smile froze. Good, I'd caught him off-guard already. The next challenge was going to be eating a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in a way that could be seen as something other than revisiting my childhood. I reached for the pepper, well aware that my blouse was gaping and thus giving him an eyeful. The stunned silence was empowering.

"Will it just be you and I today? Because I can think of better places to discuss sex than a stuffy SHIELD seminar room." He recovered finally, and his smile reminded me of a hungry lion's.

"As tempting as the offer is, Mr. Stark, there are some new hires that will be joining us." I made sure to draw out his name a much as I could. "Aren't you eating?"

"I hadn't made it that far. I saw you and had to come say hello." He stammered. Ha! On the ropes!

"You should get something to eat. It's a long afternoon, and there's a lot of really active, close work." I admonished. His eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly, as though he was maybe catching on to my game. Time to dial it back a little. I met his gaze and then let my eyes flick away as though he'd won the stare down. I made like I was checking my phone.

"I look forward to continuing this conversation over lunch. I don't think I've been in a sexual harassment in the workplace seminar since you started teaching them. I have a lot of questions." He winked and headed to the cafeteria line up. As soon as I saw him staring at the overhead menu, I collected my lunch and headed to the seminar room. There was no way I was going to be able to eat tomato soup without spilling it all down my cleavage and that wasn't going to play into the sexpot myth very well. I shut the door behind me and ensure it was locked before tucking back into my lunch. Shortly before the hour, a key rattled in the lock and kitchen services rolled in a cart with a coffee pot and snacks. I handed off my dishes and headed to the restroom to brush my teeth, taking my tablet with me, but leaving the conference room door open so the employees taking the seminar could get in. Tomato soup breath and grilled cheese crumbs were also not going to help me turn the tables on Tony Stark. I checked my lipstick before heading back into class. I could hear laughter coming from the conference room as I approached it and could hear Stark telling jokes. I stopped to make sure my skirt was smooth, and my blouse was gaping just enough, fluffed my hair just a little and licked my lips. When I strode into the room, everyone fell silent and stood, except Stark. But they all stared.

I made my way to the front of the room, and sat on the table that was beside the podium, crossing my legs. The SHIELD employees had all stood when I'd entered, which was unsurprising given that they were all fresh from the academy. Stark was in the front row, slouched comfortably in his chair, tapping a pencil on the table in front of him.

"Please sit. My name is Anna Ellis, and I am the acting Human Resources manager for SHIELD. For those of you attending this seminar as part of orientation, welcome. Those of you who are attending because you've had an A2-336E filed, please listen this time so we won't have this conversation again. And Mr. Stark," I paused, "If you make it to ten, you get to come an eleventh time for free. And as a bonus gift, we'll chemically castrate you. See me to have your card punched on Friday. It says here you're up to seven visits already!"

Almost everyone snickered into their hands. Stark kept tapping his pencil on the table. I pushed myself up and uncrossed my legs to stand, leaned down in front of him, paused long enough that I saw his eyes stray to my open blouse and his eyes dilate before snatching the pencil and snapping it in half. I quirked an eyebrow in challenge at him and he looked away quickly.

"SHIELD has a long history as an equal opportunity employer. Our founding members included Agent Peggy Carter, and that was over seventy years ago, when women were being shuffled out of the workplace and back into the home after World War II. There has never been a time in SHIELD history when there haven't been women in important leadership roles, and as such, it is considered to be exceptionally important that both men and women employed by SHIELD behave in a way that promotes a safe and tolerant work environment. There is a three strikes policy regarding sexual harassment, but Director Fury is currently overlooking a proposal to make it a zero-tolerance policy." I paused and looked across the room. There were an equal number of men and women in the room, supporting my introduction. "Regardless of the outcome of that proposal, the current protocol for sexual harassment in the workplace once an A2-336E is received is that the incident is investigated, the individual is sent to this seminar, and upon completion, a note is made in their personnel file. Should there be two other incidents of misconduct that warrant attending this seminar, employment in terminated."

A hand shot up at the back of the room.

"Yes? I'm sorry; we didn't do introductions, did we? Please tell me your name, and then your question."

"Andrew Abrams, ma'am. What are the parameters for an A2-336E?" He asked. I scanned for his name on my tablet. He was Operations.

"That's an excellent question, Agent Abrams. Inappropriate touching is grounds for immediate termination, if the investigation supports the claimant. This seminar is intended for employees and consultants who are deemed rehabilitatable." I explained. "Now, you might wonder what exactly inappropriate touching covers. If you aren't invited to touch, it's inappropriate. Period."

"Thank you, ma'am."

I took a moment to do introductions. There were four agents from Operations, two from science, one from data analysis. Stark rose and faced the other attendees.

"Hi. I'm Tony Stark. You might know me as Iron Man. Or as one of the heroes of New York." He pulled an Iron Man action figure from his pocket. "See? I have an action figure. I am a consultant for SHIELD, but also a member of the Avengers Initiative. I am here because I keep inviting SHIELD employees to inappropriately touch me. Isn't that right, Ms. Ellis?"

"Shall I share your email from this morning, Mr. Stark?" I offered, wagging my tablet at him. He winked at me.

"That's quite all right. If anyone would like to see what Ms. Ellis is talking about, I can give you a private show later. And Ms. Ellis, please. Call me Tony." He leaned back on his table and looked over his shoulder at me. I had to resist rolling my eyes.

"I'd rather not, Mr. Stark."

"Don't be fooled by Ms. Ellis's youth and beauty, folks. She's a powerful sorcerer from another realm. Completely resistant to charm, mine in particular. Has the heart of a librarian." He announced. "You should always whisper around her." He spoke in a stage whisper. This time I did roll my eyes.

"Enough, Tony." I directed my eyes to his chair and he sat.

"See? Sorceress!" He whispered again.

The rest of the class plodded on. We watched a video that was cheesy in its antiquity. I'd requested funding to have it replaced with a more up-to-date film with more salient examples, but as yet had not received the funding approval. Then we delved into the actual sexual harassment policy. It was dry, and horrible, and boring. And I had three more afternoon sessions of very much the same to go. I decided to cut the class loose a little early.

"Okay gang. This was the worst day, I promise. I'm sure Mr. Stark can vouch for me. It's 1545; we're going to break for the day. I'll see you all at 1300 tomorrow. If you have any questions, please feel free to pop by my office. HR is upstairs, first hall on the left off the elevators. Mine is the big office in the middle of the room." I uncrossed my legs and slipped off the table, stretching a little. I was a little stiff from not doing anything, and the thought had not escaped me that I might have to continue to run, even when I wasn't in training.

The new hires all bolted. One swung by the refreshments and grabbed a couple donuts before darting out the door, leaving Stark and me alone.

"Ms. Ellis. You are so much more enjoyable than your predecessor." He smiled, and slouched back in his chair.

"Well, I am easier on the eyes." I agreed.

"This is my point exactly. How hard is it to put a beautiful woman in charge of a sexual harassment seminar?" He asked.

"Well, I think the idea is to prevent sexual harassment, Tony. Not encourage it." I walked around his table and leaned against it, uncomfortably close to him.

"Oh. Is that the idea? This maybe isn't working then." He sat up and reached into his suit jacket. He pulled out his phone and starting playing with it. "Is this your number, Ms. Ellis?" He turned his phone to face me. I nodded.

"You're a man of so many talents." I smiled.

"Then this is your address?" He flashed the phone at me again. I nodded again. "I'd like to take you out for drinks. I'll pick you up at 9pm? That's 2100, for you SHIELD types."

"I thought you had a fiancé, Tony?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I said drinks, Ms. Ellis. Not marriage." He stood up, and was so close I could feel his breath on my hair. I straightened up and he turned to leave. I touched his chest, where I was expecting the arc reactor to be.

"What happened here?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. He raised an eyebrow and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a scar.

"I found an amazing surgeon. Got the shrapnel out." His voice took on a different quality. I pulled my hand back, my fingers curling instinctively to stop myself from touching it. It looked so much like Phil's scar that I bit my lip to stop the tears that were filling my eyes. I dropped my hand to my chest.

"I can't, uh, it wouldn't," I paused and sighed, "I don't think it's appropriate to meet you for drinks, Mr. Stark."

"Because I no longer have the arc reactor in my chest? I've met some weird groupies before, but this takes the cake." He buttoned his shirt back up.

"No, it's the scar. It reminds me of someone. And I just –"

"You don't happen to play the cello, do you?" He interrupted. I looked away, startled by the reference. Stark didn't know Coulson was alive.

"Uh, no. Why?"

"No reason. I've only ever known one other person who had a wound in their heart. Your reaction made me think of him." He slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket and buttoned it closed.

"We all miss Agent Coulson, Mr. Stark." I couldn't make eye contact with him. I was a terrible liar.

"You knew him."

"We all did." I flipped the cover on my tablet closed and turned to leave. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"You, ah, didn't mean that part about chemical castration, did you?" He broke the somber mood. I smiled and shrugged.

"Didn't I?" I winked and walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

In the first few months after the Battle of New York, there had been a rush of merchandise and marketing that was primarily intended to draw attention to the heroes of New York and away from SHIELD. Stark's Iron Man action figure was an excellent example. There had also been a ridiculously camp cartoon that had aired for half a season before being cancelled, but it had a fantastic comic-booky theme song that made my heart so happy that I often found I was humming it to myself when I was stressed out. I wasn't alone in finding the tune catchy. The chances were often in your favour that if you hummed the first two notes on a crowded SHIELD elevator that someone would join in. Enough of us used it as a ringtone that Fury had sent a memo reminding everyone that it was the official SHIELD ringtone last April Fools Day.

I had just stepped into the seminar room, and was already running late, when my phone rang. I'd forgotten to silence it, and to my embarrassment, my ringtone filled the silent room. One of the new hires started giggling as the cheery cartoon music started floating from my hip pocket, and Stark turned around, an eyebrow quirked. I shifted everything to one arm and fought the blush flooding my cheeks as I reached into my pocket to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey. I hope I'm catching you at lunch." Coulson hadn't texted since the previous morning, but I hadn't expected a phone call.

"Actually, I'm going to have to call you back, if that's okay?" I dropped the stack of books on the table at the front of the room. "I've just walked into my seminar and I'm running late."

"Anna, you have to evacuate the building. We have intel that suggests it's going to be attacked within the ho-" A deafening explosion rocked the building, and I dropped to the floor, losing my grip the phone. I reached for the phone and scrambled underneath the table.

"Phil? What the fuck is happening?" I practically screamed into the phone.

"Get out of the building. Get Stark to get you out of the building!" His voice cracked and I knew I should be scared. If Coulson sounded scared, I should be terrified. Another deafening explosion rocked the building, and ceiling tiles started falling. I pulled my legs under the table, unable to stop myself from letting out a shriek of fear.

"Okay, class, we need to evacuate!" I called across the noise. I took a quick look out from under the table, but was knocked onto my back as Stark shot from under his table to tackle me. Before I could protest, a large chunk of steel and cement slammed into the spot where my head had been. Stark snatched my phone from me.

"Hi. I don't know who you are, but Ms. Ellis needs to go." He hit end and handed my phone back to me. "Put that in your bra or something. You'll probably need it. We need to get out of here." He rolled off me and started playing with his phone. Another huge chunk of cement fell, this time on the table Stark had been under, and the table buckled and flattened.

"We aren't safe, Stark. Unless that phone has a teleportation device in it, I think texting is probably not the smartest move." I snapped. I tried to survey the room, and saw the last of the others scrabbling for the door, and heading toward the stairs. There was another explosion and the windows blew out of the room. Stark grabbed me by the scruff of my blouse and started dragging me toward the open windows.

"Come on. Watch your knees, there's glass everywhere." He swept his free hand across the carpet as he crawled toward the gaping space where the reflective glass had been, dragging me alongside him. My knees appreciated the effort, but they were getting chewed up anyhow.

"We are seventeen floors up, Stark, we can't jump!" I screamed as he hauled me to my feet at the window ledge. He held me away at arms length.

"Take a step to your left." He ordered. Suddenly, he was being covered in the Iron Man suit. It appeared out of nowhere, and was snapping onto his body with precision and speed. When he was fully covered, he pulled me against his chest.

"Holy shit." I muttered. He looked down at me as he stepped over the ledge of the window.

"Did you forget I was Iron Man, Ms. Ellis?" His voice had a metallic, echo-y quality. We flew clear of the continuing explosions. He set us down in a park across the river from the Triskelion. His visor flipped up.

"Thank you." I breathed as I got my legs under me again. I felt wobbly and a little nauseated from the open-air flight.

"You should get home and then do whatever it is you SHIELD types do when the shit hits the fan." He recommended. Another enormous explosion, and part of the building blew out into the parking lot.

"My car!" I cried, as I saw the destruction. "I have to find the muster point. It's in parking lot B."

"I'm heading back in to make sure everyone is getting out okay. Can you get there on your own?" He asked. I nodded, completely numb. He blasted back into the sky and toward the crumbling building. I stood, frozen in place, staring at the building in horror. Deep within me, something pushed me forward to the muster point, and I found myself running across the park toward the river where the B lot was.

There was a small group of people beginning to gather under a flashing blue light. A security guard was checking a tablet as they arrived. My phone rang again, and I stopped running to answer it.

"Don't go to the muster point, Anna. SHIELD has been compromised. Head directly home, pack a bag and then leave." It was Coulson again. I turned around and started away from the parking lot, in the direction I'd come from. I smoothed my skirt, trying to beat the dust off it. A quick glance over my shoulder told me I hadn't been noticed.

"And then where?" I asked, continuing through the park.

"There's a café across the street from our restaurant." He said. "I'll meet you there."

"Our restaurant?" I was in too much shock to think.

"You'll figure it out." The line went dead. I turned around to survey the destruction. The Triskelion looked as though it was quickly falling to ruins. Every few seconds, something else exploded. Whoever had planned the attack seemed determined to erase the memory of the building from the earth. I wondered if they would succeed. And then, selfishly, I thought about my flattened car. That my purse was still inside the building. That my Thor bobblehead probably wasn't bobbling anymore. I started toward the nearest metro station to get home. I'd worry about how to get inside when I got there.

XXX

"I heard about that government building being attacked. I didn't realize you worked there, Annie." Bob, my building super, was about a million years old, moved like a snail and loved to talk. But he was letting me into my apartment, so I wasn't about to complain.

"Yeah." I didn't have the energy for multi-syllabic answers.

"What do you do there?" He prodded.

"I manage Human Resources." I replied.

"For what?"

"For the whole building." It was vague, but I had to be.

"Ah. I retired from the agency when the Cold War ended." He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. I smiled blandly. It didn't matter if it was CIA, FBI, NSA or any of the other acronyms that littered the district; they all thought they were the only ones.

We were walking up the stairs so slowly that I was getting a cramp in my ass. I stopped midflight and pulled my heels off. I wiggled my toes on the cool stairs and waited until Bob reached the landing for my floor before following, stretching enough that the cramps subsided. He unlocked the door faster than I thought, and peeled a spare key off his jumbled key ring.

"Until you get organized, Annie. Be safe, sweetheart." He patted my shoulder and began his glacial-paced descent back to his office. By contrast, I shut the door and became a flurry of activity. I repacked everything I'd taken to the academy, and then threw in some extra pants and t-shirts. I figured anything else and I'd have to rely on the goodness of Coulson's heart. I was packed in moments. As I zipped the suitcase closed, I realized a suitcase was really obvious, and went digging under my bed for my old backpack from university. I carefully repacked as much as I could into it, and dug my favourite big purse out of my closet for the rest. I even found a wallet, just because it felt weird to not carry one. Not that this one had anything in it. I looked slightly less obtrusive. Until I realized I was covered in dirt, my blouse was torn and my knees were bleeding.

I stripped down and hit the shower, careful to be gentle on the cuts on my legs. I toweled dry, bandaged as many of the bleeding spots as I could and found a pair of ancient and ratty cargo pants. I pulled them on, and pulled out my old Captain America t-shirt. Once I was dressed, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and braided it. I surveyed myself in the full-length mirror on my bathroom door. I looked like any other college student, unless you looked closely enough to see the crow's feet around my eyes, and the greying at my temples.

I assessed my bags again and unpacked and repacked again, getting everything I wanted into the backpack. I traded out my big purse for a small one, and raided my piggybank so I had a few bucks to tide me over, should Coulson take longer than I'd expected. He hadn't given a time before he hung up. I checked the time. I'd been a half hour. My heart was still racing and I felt a little like I might have a panic attack, so I sat down on the couch and dropped my head between my knees, and took some deep breaths.

I could hear sirens. They sounded like they were coming from everywhere. I didn't think anyone was coming for me, but I knew I should get moving. Our restaurant. He said meet him at the café across from our restaurant. We'd only ever been to one restaurant, and I hadn't noticed a café across the street. But I'd be so overwhelmed by the restaurant that I might have missed it. I pulled up the street on google maps and switched into street view. Sure enough, across the street from the restaurant was a café. I grabbed my backpack and headed out.

XXX

There were cops everywhere. Every major intersection had a roadblock. I hit the metro station, thinking that would be the quickest way to get there, but everything had been shut down. I must have made it home on the last run. I was going to have to walk, and the restaurant was probably five kilometres away. Ironic, considering the runs I'd been doing. I knew I could walk it in about an hour, so I plugged my headphones in and got moving. I did my best to avoid the roadblocks, not wanting to get hung up in the congestion.

I was huffing and sweaty by the time I turned down the street that would lead me to the café. I looked at it carefully. There were two ways in, and it wasn't crowded, but it wasn't the kind of place that I thought anyone would notice me either. I decided to go inside and get an iced cappuccino while I waited. I took a seat on the patio and pulled out my book. May as well look as though I belonged.

"Excuse me, miss, do you have ID?" I looked up into the eyes of a man in a suit, flashing a badge I didn't recognize at me. I frowned.

"Not with me. Why?" I reached into my pocket for my phone and blindly tried to hit the redial button. It would connect me to Coulson.

"Surely you know there's been a terrorist attack on a government building downtown?" He asked. I gasped and dropped my book, trying to be convincingly surprised. I scrambled to pick it up.

"No, I just was on a break and needed caffeine, you know. I thought there were more cops than usual around." I was only a few minutes walk from of the multitudes of university campuses in the district. I sat back down, folded my page over and smiled at the suit.

"You're an international student though. You should be carrying ID."

"I'm sorry?" I blurted. "What makes you think that?"

The suit raised an eyebrow and pointed at my backpack, and the very prominent flag badge on it. I laughed and shook my head.

"So your ID?" He asked. I set my smile and tried to be charming.

"Like I already said. I don't have it with me." I shrugged.

"You'll need to come with me then." He said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." I stayed seated.

"I didn't throw it."

"Well, pitch it my way, or my ass stays glued to this chair. And the name of the agency you're with as well." I demanded and crossed my arms.

"I can have you arrested for –"

"I'll take care of this." It was Agent May. She took my backpack and flashed her badge at the suit. "Mine trumps yours." She took my arm roughly and snapped a pair of cuffs on me before I could protest. She walked me toward the waiting SHIELD SUV, and stuck me in the backseat. Coulson was waiting there, and pulled me into his arms.

"Thank god you're okay." He kissed my forehead. I leaned into him and burst into tears.


	5. Chapter 5

"Your girl is smart, Coulson." May commented as she drove out into the countryside.

"Of course she is." His voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my cheek. I was exhausted, and too emotional to really track where we were and what was happening, but I knew I was safe. Coulson rubbed my back before reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. He ended the call to him, and slipped it back. He sat me up and slipped the cuffs off my wrists. I hadn't realized Agent May had put them on so loosely that I could have taken them off on my own. Maybe I wasn't so smart after all.

"Who was that guy?" I asked.

"He wasn't SHIELD, so it doesn't really matter. He didn't have any legal grounds for what he was doing. There was nothing about you that suggested any suspicion. And he was six miles from the site of the attack." Agent Ward commented from the front passenger seat.

"He seemed to think this made me a suspect." I pointed at my backpack. Ward glanced over his shoulder and snorted.

"Yeah, okay." He rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. You were sick of your reputation as the nicest people in the world and decided to do something about it, so you picked the HQ of the most secret agency on the planet to bomb the hell out of. An agency, I might add, that is international, and probably employs as many Canadians as it does Americans."

"Statistically, actually, we employ more Canadians." I offered.

"So what is your motivation to blow up your employer?" Ward retorted.

"I _was_ giving a sexual harassment seminar to Tony Stark." I commented, with a damp laugh.

"How was that going?" Coulson interjected. I smiled at him.

"It was working. Right until he got all maudlin on me."

"Stark? Maudlin?" Coulson shook his head.

"He's had the arc reactor removed, and he has a scar to rival yours. And it reminded me of you, but since I know you're alive, I wasn't being maudlin, I was just feeling deceptive." I glossed over the details.

"How did you know he –"

"I was winning the wager, that's how." I cut him off. I thought I saw a flash of jealousy in Phil's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had happened. He pulled me back to his chest and kissed my forehead. I relaxed into his arms.

"I'm so glad he got you out, Anna."

"And went back in to keep pulling people out." I added.

May pulled off the interstate onto a dusty road, and soon turned onto a narrower road. I could see the bus in the distance. As we approached the plane, the cargo doors dropped open and we drove in, pulling up to park beside Lola. Phil led me up to his office and shut the door. He took a long look at me, as though he was amazed I was in one piece. And then he laughed.

"I like the t-shirt." He stepped close and ran his hands down my arms, and then pulled me into another embrace. His hands found the elastic in my hair, and he pulled his fingers through the braid before pulling the top band out and letting it drop to my shoulders. He wove his fingers deep into it, and tugged my face to his. His lips met mine with a crushing intensity. I stumbled into him, grabbing his lapels. He dragged me over to the leather couch and pushed me down onto it, following me down. I broke the kiss to catch my breath.

"Shit, Phil, had I known this t-shirt would make you so wild –"

"Shut up." His mouth was bruising against mine. His hand slid under my shirt, his touch searing. I couldn't help but lean into him. There was a knock on the door and he groaned against my lips before pulling away. I sat up while he straightened his suit. The hacker, Skye, came through the door when he opened it.

"There are some preliminary casualty lists coming out. She's on them." Skye pointed at me. "Do you want me to update that to reflect that she's still alive?"

"Yes. Anna wasn't the target, there's no reason to keep her off the grid." Phil rationalized.

"Simmons wants to look you over, make sure there aren't any injuries." She turned to me. I glanced at Phil and he nodded, almost imperceptibly. I stood up.

"Lead the way." I followed her out of his office and down to the lab. There were two science division agents working on something at the holotable. I hadn't met either of them before, but I knew that the woman was Jemma Simmons and the guy was Leo Fitz. I'd processed all their transfer paperwork when they'd joined the team.

"So, Simmons, Fitz, this is Agent Ellis." Skye introduced me. I placed my hand on her arm gently.

"I'm not an agent, Skye." I corrected. She gave me a look of confusion.

"I thought everyone at SHIELD was an agent of some sort."

"Not all of us. I appreciate the promotion though." I smiled. Simmons approached me and offered her hand. I shook it.

"I wanted to give you a quick once over, since you were in the building during the attack." She turned to Skye. "It's such a shame that it came down. I was so looking forward to showing it to you."

"I have a casualty list to update. Later." She excused herself. Simmons led me to the small medical bay.

"I'm fine, Agent Simmons." I offered, trying to disguise the limp that betrayed the cuts to my knees and legs.

"We'll let me determine that though, won't we? Agent Coulson would be quite upset if I missed something." Her accent made her sound very business-like and precise. It was oddly comforting. I took the gown she offered and stripped off my t-shirt and pants while she pretended to busy herself on the other side of the room. I sat on the gurney, and exposed my knees, pulling the bandaids off. They looked worse than I remembered, swollen and red around the areas where the cuts were.

"This is the worst of it." I said. She turned back and nodded, then reached for a small cart on wheels. She pulled it over beside the gurney. With her foot, she hooked a stool and dragged it over, sitting down as it got to her in one carelessly fluid movement. There were a bunch of different bottles on the top of the cart, and she looked at a couple of them before pulling one out and pouring some clear liquid into a little dish. The top drawer of the cart was filled with sterile pads, and she pulled out a small stack.

"This is going to be cold, but it shouldn't hurt. It's just saline solution." She explained, and proceeded to clean my knees. The door to the bay opened and Phil entered, holding a pair of shorts that he dropped on the gurney beside me. He leaned over beside Simmons.

"They look worse than they are, sir." She explained. He nodded.

"Skye has pulled your name from the casualty lists, Anna. But you should probably know that there were a lot of deaths." He offered.

"Did everyone in my seminar get out?" I asked. "I could probably give you a list of names."

"I already checked. Everyone from the seminar is safe. Fury has everyone on lock-down. He knows you are with us, and wants you to stay put for now." He paced behind Simmons, who was looking for a pair of tweezers. She started pulling gravel and broken glass out of my knees. I sucked my breath through my teeth, trying to not cry out. Phil sat down on the gurney beside me and held my hand. I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. There was fresh blood running down my legs, I could feel the warmth of it trickling down to my socks. Simmons sighed.

"Did you crawl across a bed of broken glass?" Her tone was sarcastic, as though she was imagining the stupidest thing she could think of that would cause these injuries.

"Kind of. Stark dragged me to the open window to get out of the building. The window was open because it had blown up." I bit out through deep breaths. She nodded, and started on the other knee. The poking sensation of the tweezers made my stomach turn, and the tug of my flesh as she caught the embedded debris was enough to make me want to scream. I opted to crush Phil's hand instead.

When Simmons was finally finished digging at my knees, the pain was worse than when I'd received the cuts. She applied some sort of ointment to them, and carefully bandaged me up. I pulled the shorts on, and tugged my t-shirt back on, grateful to be free of the hospital gown.

"You look exhausted. Can I give you something for pain?" She offered. I nodded, suppressing a yawn. She gave me a shot of something, and it worked really fast. I felt warm, and comfortable and pain-free for the first time since lunch.

"Let's get you somewhere that you can lay down, Anna." Phil helped me to my feet.

"You should lay down with me." I leaned into him as we walked toward the stairs back to his office. I heard Simmons stifle a giggle, but didn't really care. I noticed Phil's ears were turning red though. So he could be embarrassed. I'd have to remember that. He led me into his office and through another door to his quarters. He pulled back the sheets and tucked me in.

"Get some sleep."

"You are very lovely, Phil." I mumbled as I closed my eyes.

XXX

There was some sort of bump or lurch that brought me screaming out of sleep. It was completely dark in the room, and I couldn't get my bearings. I was dizzy and thought I might throw up, so I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and dropped my head between my knees. I felt something on my back and screamed again, jumping up, and immediately siting back down because the pain medication had worn off. I was even dizzier, and was seeing large bright spots in front of my eyes.

"Anna, it's just me." Phil's voice was low behind me, and he touched my back again. I sagged in relief. "What woke you?"

"Turbulence maybe? Are we still in the air?" I pondered. "Something shook me, and I felt like I was back in the Triskelion."

"It's the middle of the night. Lay back down." He patted my pillow. I swung my legs back into the bed carefully, hissing in pain as I straightened my legs under the blankets. He slid his arm under my neck and pulled me against his chest, draping his other arm across my waist. Phil fell asleep again quickly, and his rhythmic breathing lulled me back to sleep not long after.

I awoke stiff and sore. And with a painfully full bladder, and a growling stomach. Phil had already absented himself from the bed, so I was left trying to find the toilet on my own. It was in a tiny closet beside the actual closet. He wasn't in his office, so I made my way down the stairs and found a lounge. With a bar. It was pretty sweet. Skye was sitting on one of the couches with her laptop open and a look of frustrated concentration on her face.

"Good morning." I offered, tentative. I felt very out of place amongst Phil's team. Like an outsider being sternly assessed. Which made sense, as I was the outsider, and SHIELD teams tended to be very protective of one another.

"Hey." She sounded friendly at least, even if she wasn't wordy.

"Can you point me in the direction of the coffee maker? And food? And maybe Phil?" I asked. She looked up at me and smiled. And then suddenly laughed.

"In that order?"

"Uh, yes?" I smiled, and knew I was blushing. She snapped her laptop closed and rose, setting in back where she was sitting. She led me past the command centre, and the team bunks, to a door.

"They galley is through here. There is always coffee brewed, unless you are a jerk and are the last person to fill your cup and neglect to make more. Fitz is really bad for that. Have you actually met him yet? He's really great, but forgetful about the coffee. There's always food in the fridge. The only thing I would warn you about is to not touch the Lucky Charms. They're A.C.'s and it's the only thing I've ever seen him get cranky about." She led me into the galley and started a fresh pot of coffee. "Uh, that last part isn't true. I've seen him cranky about lots, but he gets really bent about the Lucky Charms."

"A.C.?" I was a little lost. I knew I should know who she meant, but couldn't figure it out.

"Coulson." She explained. I raised an eyebrow and grabbed the box. I actually couldn't stand Lucky Charms, but I wanted to see how he'd react. Her eyes widened as I poured myself a bowl. I grabbed a couple of coffee cups and poured.

"How do you take yours?" I asked. She smiled again and took the cup.

"Black like my soul."

"Great minds." I laughed. She grinned over her cup. I had made a friend.

"What can I call you?" She leaned against the tiny galley counter and assessed me.

"Anna is fine. I'm not an agent. I find SHIELD's obsession with last names tiring. Even though I fall prey to it myself all the time." I took a bite of my cereal. It was revolting. Way too much sugar for the morning.

"We should probably find A.C. before you finish that. Although you might want to mask the ick face, if you want him to think you innocently stole his cereal." She tilted her head back to the door and I followed her out, balancing my coffee and cereal and spoon. "Last I saw him, he was down in the lab with Fitz-Simmons."

We walked through the bunks and saw him in the command centre with Ward and May. I followed Skye in and found a perch to lean on while I ate. He stepped over and put a hand on my waist, leaning in to kiss my cheek. It felt almost professional, if it weren't for the fact it was a kiss. Distant maybe. We were in the command centre, so maybe it felt more formal. By the same token, I felt like a slob, still in the clothing I'd fallen asleep in. I felt even stupider when Director Fury flashed onto the screen. He looked around the room and focused on me right away.

"Ms. Ellis, I'm sorry, did we wake you?" He was always so cranky. I mean, in light of the attack, I understood, but I always felt like a teenager in the throes of rebellion around him. He made the perfect disapproving parent figure. And I always rose to the bait. It was like I couldn't just fly under the radar with him and keep out of trouble.

"It's my day off." I retorted. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"Only because you haven't got an office. Unfortunately, the business end of SHIELD is busier than usual. I've sent you a finalized list of casualties from yesterday's attack. Coulson will get you set up so you can start working on deactivation, benefits, and insurance. Your division took heavy casualties. We are calling back any HR staff currently at the academy. Once we have acquired office space, the team will deliver you there."

"Of course, sir." I nodded. I caught Phil glaring at my bowl and took a big spoonful of mostly marshmallows. It was hard not gagging on it, but I smiled as I swallowed. He shook his head and turned back to the screen. I quickly took a gulp of coffee to rinse my mouth.

"I can get that started right now, A.C." Skye offered.

"Thanks Skye. If you could give Anna a tour of the bus while we finish this meeting before you start on that, I'm sure she'd like to know where to find things." Phil agreed. Skye nodded and grabbed my coffee cup for me.

"I'll show you where the nice shower is." She offered as we left the command centre.


	6. Chapter 6

If I could make one recommendation to Director Fury about SHIELD it would be to never release employee mortality rates to potential recruits. I didn't envy him the pile of condolence letters he would be writing. It was bad enough just deactivating the personnel files of the deceased. I saw my name in at least half the files I was working on, which meant I had interacted with each of those victims of the attack on some personal level; I'd either processed their intake paperwork, given them their orientation, or assisted them to navigate through the mysterious coding system for SHIELD paperwork. Each time I recognized a name, my heart tightened.

I was only about a quarter of the way through the first task when I had to take a break. The casualty list was organized numerically by employee ID number. I never knew who was going to come up until I keyed the number into the computer. I was on a roll and picking up speed as the task became more familiar. It sounds like a horrible thing to say, but when you have 300 files to process, you begin to count keystrokes. It took thirteen keystrokes to deactivate a file. And that was only the first part of the process. I still had benefits and insurance to process after each victim was deactivated. So I was focusing on the task at hand, and trying to keep my emotions in check. But when Kate's name flashed onto the screen, I dropped my coffee cup on the laptop and started crying.

Skye either heard the coffee cup clunk to the floor, or more likely, saw the laptop suddenly drop from the network as my coffee destroyed it. Regardless, she found me, sobbing into my hands. Her small arms wrapped around my back and she nestled into the arm of my chair, stroking my hair and shushing me.

"I can take it from here, Skye." Phil spoke from behind us, and Skye slipped away. Phil took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Follow me."

I let Phil lead me back to his office. He sat me down on the couch and poured me a very generous tumbler of whiskey.

"I can ask Fury to farm this work out to another HR branch, Anna." Phil sat beside me, and rubbed my back. I took one of those deep gasping breaths, trying to regain control. He handed me a handkerchief. It was so out of place, I forgot for a moment that I was upset, and just stared at it. And then in my mind I saw Kate's face smiling at me from her personnel file, and was flooded with memories of our week at the academy and couldn't breathe for the tears and sorrow.

I wiped at my tears ineffectively. Phil pulled me into his arms, and continued rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry." I managed, between gulps of air. I was beginning to feel like I could fight the tears, fight the sobs that were wracking my body. I fought to steady my breathing. It was to be an on-going battle, I would breathe normally for a moment, then those galloping gasps would hit me again.

"Who?" He didn't say anything else, but I knew what he was asking.

"Kate."

"Your partner in crime from last week? Christ, I'm sorry, Anna." He looked down at me, and brushed a tear away with his thumb. I found the tumbler in my hand and took a long pull from the glass, savouring the burn as it coiled down to my belly. I mostly felt numb, but the liquor was a welcome reminder that I was, at least, still alive. I tossed back the rest of the glass, and slammed it onto the coffee table.

"Who did this?" I asked. "Was it HYDRA?"

"At this point, that is our belief." He nodded. I looked around for tissue and realized I was going actually have to use the hanky to blow my nose. I stuffed it in my pocket and felt a cold rage descend over me. I stood up, smoothed my shirt, and pulled my hair over my shoulder.

"I think I wrecked that laptop. Is there another one I can use?" I asked. I still sounded tearful, like I might start crying again without notice, but I knew I was ready to get back at my duties.

"Anna, I can talk to Fury about someone a little more distant from this taking this task over." Phil offered. I looked him dead in the eye.

"No. I knew these people. I worked with them. I may not be in operations, and I may not be able to stop HYDRA, but I can data-process the fuck out of their files so their families don't have to suffer any more than they already are going to." I squared my shoulders and managed a weak smile. Phil nodded.

"You're a warrior, Anna. Just a different brand than me." He stepped in and pulled me into his arms.

"I'm soft, and weak." I sniffled, disagreeing.

"No. You're capable, and intelligent. And you are strong. Did you have any idea how well you tested last week? On the range and the track, you showed the most improvement. You might not be an agent, Anna, but you could have been, had SHIELD steered you that way when you were hired." Phil held my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. I broke away, my eyes filling with tears.

"It doesn't matter." I shrugged. "I'm going to find Skye, and get back to work."

I walked out of Phil's office and back down to the lounge. Skye had the laptop open and was mopping up the coffee before she attempted to repair the damage I'd done. At least, that's what it looked like. She heard my approach and looked up at me, giving me a kind smile. Her eyes shone with empathy, and as I felt mine beginning to fill again, I looked away and swallowed the lump in the throat.

"I killed it, right?" I asked.

"I think so." She nodded toward the pile of damp towels on the floor beside her. "Gives you an excuse to farm this out to someone else."

"I can't. A lot of those casualties are my staff. I owe it to their families to get their paperwork in order as soon as I can. Survivor benefits can make a huge difference in those first few months." I dropped my butt onto the coffee table.

"I'll grab you another laptop then, and get you connected to the network." She hopped up without another word and disappeared momentarily, reappearing with another laptop that she opened and started fiddling with. She handed it over to me, and I moved to the table I'd been working at and logged in, bringing Kate's file back up on the screen. I worked through it quickly, and noted her next-of-kin was a grandmother. I keyed the address into my phone, making a note in my calendar to send a card. I slogged through to the halfway point before I needed to get up and stretch. Skye had been working on something sprawled out on the couch and she popped to her feet and headed to the galley. She came back carrying sandwiches for both of us, and fresh coffee.

"Just finish it before you go back to work, okay?" She teased. I felt myself blushing and smiled despite it.

"I promise I won't destroy any more computers." I held up two fingers, like a Girl Guide. The sandwich was amazing. It was some sort of ham and cheese but it was incredible. I wanted to make happy eating noises, it was that good.

"How's the sandwich?" She asked, as she started her second half. She looked up and saw mine was completely gone and started laughing. "That good?"

"I think I need a cigarette." I groaned. "That was a damn sexy sandwich."

"You should tell Simmons, she made them. And Fitz, actually. It's his favourite. Let me see if I can remember. Prosciutto and Buffalo Mozza with some sort of aioli." She closed one eye and scrunched up her face, her open eye looking up, as though she were actually trying to extract information from her brain.

"Pesto. I'm sure it's pesto." I offered.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, and took another bite of her sandwich. "Listen, you said that those personnel files need to be completed as soon as possible for benefits. Can I help you? I'm a pretty quick study on a computer." She winked. I sat back and drank my coffee, a bit blindsided by the offer.

"You don't have something better to do?" I asked.

"Not right now." She shook her head.

"I think I would really appreciate the help, Skye. Thanks." I finished by coffee and took my dishes back to the galley.

The afternoon sped by, as they always do when there is too much to do, and Skye wasn't just being a smart-ass when she said she was a quick study. I expected her to be quick on the uptake with regards to the computer skills required to deactivate personnel files, but the stepping-stones through the process required a bit of a flowchart approach. She picked that up quickly as well, and was a huge help. We finished the last of the files late in the evening, opting to skip dinner to get gone.

"Thanks again, Skye."

"I'm glad I could help, Anna." She stepped behind me and rubbed at the knot in my neck. "This would have been brutal for you to manage on your own, while you're grieving for team members."

"Just one thing." I relaxed against her hands. "I can't let anyone know you helped. Your security clearance isn't high enough."

"I know."

"So I owe you something fantastic." I smiled.

"Just treat A.C. good, okay?" She asked. I laughed and looked at her with a smirk.

"Well, that benefits me as well, Skye. Of course." I winked. She dropped her hands from my neck and gave me a light swat on the shoulder.

"Gross, Anna!" She protested. "That's not what I meant!"

XXX

"Director Fury is asking to speak with you." Ward leaned out of the command centre while I ate my very-late dinner. I brought my plate with me.

"Ellis, you did a lot of work today." Fury's eyebrow was quirked. I swallowed my mouthful and put my plate down on the furthest surface I could find from anything electronic.

"I'm efficient." I offered.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe you deactivated and processed benefits and insurance for over 300 people today?" He asked.

"I finished everyone marked deceased on the casualty lists. You should have pending approval notifications for each file. I will start on the injured tomorrow." I clarified. "And any updates to the casualty lists, of course."

"How did you get through that many files, Ellis?" He demanded.

"Skye got me set up with a blazing fast network speed, and I spent my entire day doing it. I stopped for 45 minutes to eat lunch." I lied. Fury blinked slowly, but said nothing. I knew he was going to continue to say nothing because it was a classic interrogation technique. Wait until the guilty party blurts out the truth. Wasn't going to happen.

"I would like to see a complete restructure of Human Resources once we are back online, Ellis. Starting with your promotion to director of the department." He finally spoke.

"I'll give it some thought." I responded.

"I know you are not an agent, Ellis, but this is an order. It's not optional." Fury was more tense than usual. Understandably. I nodded.

"Fine, but I want my thoughts considered on this restructuring." I bargained.

"That's why I want you in the position, Ellis." He barked. "I spent the better part of today securing office space for your department. There will be significantly less space, which means a smaller department. Agent Coulson will be bringing you in day after tomorrow."

"Yes sir." I think every person who ever interacted with Fury knew better than to argue once a certain tone entered his voice. He'd hit that point. I turned to retrieve my dinner and leave the command centre.

"One last thing, Ellis." Fury stopped me. "Tony Stark was asking for an update on you. I assured him you are fine, but as I am sure you are aware, Mr. Stark doesn't always see eye to eye with me. I suspect he is probably trying to track your whereabouts."

"Why does he care?" I asked, to no one in particular.

"Regardless, Ellis, being on that airborne mobile command is compromising Agent Coulson's cover."

"With all due respect, sir, it's a fucking miracle that Stark hasn't already hacked our computers and seen Agent Coulson's personnel file is still active." I retorted.

"Ward, May, can you give Agent Coulson, Ellis and I a moment?" Fury asked. The two senior agents slipped from the command centre. Coulson stepped beside me after sliding the partition shut.

"Sir?" He asked.

"I am willing to overlook whatever it is you two are up to. For now. SHIELD protocols exist for a reason. If you flaunt your relationship, or it compromises security in any way, I will separate you. Permanently." Fury began. I looked down at the console and back up again, waiting for him to continue.

"Sir, I've already given up one life for SHIELD. I'm not about to be told how to live this second one." Phil's voice was steady, but I could see a slight tremor in his hand. He was angry.

"Then make sure you don't need to be told." Fury snapped. "Ellis, what the hell is the story with Stark? Why the hell was he even in the building?"

"He was in a harassment seminar during the attack. He called the suit, and flew me to safety before he went back in to see who else he could save." I explained.

"He'll be in your new office at 0900 on Thursday morning. Coulson, you are not to walk her to the door." He reached forward and the picture cut out, ending the transmission. I looked at Phil and smiled.

"I had a sandwich today that may have been better than sex." I teased. One corner of his mouth tilted up.

"It wasn't." There was no change to his tone, but his eyes lit up, taking on a mercenary look.

"No? It was pretty amazing. It had pesto aioli." I held up my hands, imitating a scale. He leaned close, his lips at my ear.

"I have nothing to prove." He whispered, enunciating each word clearly. I leaned toward his ear, sliding my hands under his lapels.

"Pesto aioli." I whispered back. I stepped back, winked at him and slapped his ass on my way out of the command centre. I stopped part way through the door, leaned back and grabbed my dinner. I'd forgotten that the command centre was walled in with clear glass, and when I looked up, Skye was biting her knuckles to stop herself from laughing.

"What the hell did you just say?" She was staring into the command centre. I turned and saw Phil glaring at me. We'd been on the plane together for over 24 hours and had barely had a moment alone. I was pretty sure he was as frustrated as I was. I'd spent most of the afternoon avoiding him, rather than fighting my need to drag him up to his bed every time I saw him.

"He's jealous about the sandwich." I blew him a kiss and sat down to finish my dinner.


	7. Chapter 7

"I heard you liked your sandwich?" Simmons sat down at the other end of the couch from me.

"It was incredible. Thank you for making it." I had to restrain myself from gushing. She smiled and her shoulders twitched, just a little, betraying the triumph and pride she held for that sandwich.

"It's just a thing." She dismissed.

"No, it's a masterpiece. And you totally know it. Don't fake modesty over something that amazing." I chastised her. She smiled broadly and looked at me, biting her lip.

"You really loved it? Sometimes I think Fitz just tolerates my sandwich creations." She was a funny combination of confidence and uncertainty.

"I really loved it. I'll have to make you my special pizza sometime." I offered. "Pizza is my experimentation zone."

"That's a good one. Diverse. Lots of potential." She nodded, leaning closer. I felt like we were conspiring over something much more intense than food.

"I bet that sandwich would turn into an epic pizza." I tilted my head and thought about it.

"Are you still going on about that sandwich?" Phil threw up his hands as he walked out of the command centre.

"It was a great sandwich." I admitted. Phil rolled his eyes, and shook his head. I bit my lip and feigned innocence. Simmons looked between us and excused herself, suddenly appearing a little uncomfortable. I didn't blame her. The sexual frustration was bouncing off us in waves.

"I have a little paperwork to complete. Join me for a nightcap?" Phil asked. I stood up slowly, my muscles stiff and sore from trying to get away from the collapsing building.

"I thought you'd never ask." I stepped close and slid my arms around him, leaning my head against his shoulder. His arms tightened around mine, and he dipped his head to kiss my neck, his lips feather soft against my skin.

XXX

Phil abandoned all pretense of doing work once we were in his office. No sooner than the door had shut than he was on me. A little like a velociraptor attack, only much sexier. And less roaring. Actually, it was nothing like a velociraptor attack at all, except for the initial pounce. It was hungry though, and demanding. Every time we'd needed to interact during the day, we'd been circling one another at a safe distance, trying to avoid unnecessary contact. We had both been far too busy to take any time away from our tasks, and we both apparently defaulted to 'avoid the temptation' mode to accomplish anything.

So now that we were alone, all that tension that had been just below the surface came bursting through. And I was pinned against the door to his office, not minding one bit. His mouth ground against mine, bruising my lips. His hands tore the elastic out of my hair and knotted in the loose mass. His hips ground against mine, his knee nudging my legs apart roughly. I fumbled with his tie, finally sliding the tail out of the knot and tugging it free from his neck. His top button was already undone, and I was so distracted that I could barely find the next button. I finally tugged at the placket, and the buttons popped through the holes. I ran my hands up his chest, and pushed his jacket and shirt off his shoulders. My hand strayed back to the jagged scar on his chest, and I flattened my palm against it. Phil was a survivor. And even though I bore no scars, I was now a survivor too.

His free hand slid up my thigh, and when he reached my waist, he tugged my t-shirt over my head in one swift movement. He looked down and smiled, his touch less frantic suddenly.

"Until I die, I would like to see you at least once a week in a green bra." His fingers were again drawn to the lace at the top of the cups. Goosebumps raced across my skin. He leaned in and kissed my collarbone.

"This colour, or maybe the colour of pesto aioli?" I teased. He raised an eyebrow, and without a word, pulled my over his shoulder and started toward his quarters. He kicked the door open and dropped me on the bed. He kicked the door shut, plunging us into darkness. I heard his belt buckle clatter against the floor, and felt the bed dip where he knelt beside me.

"Allow me to remind you that there are things in this life better than a fucking sandwich." His mouth found mine again.

XXX

I stirred when I felt Phil's lips against my bare shoulder, and rolled onto my back, opening my eyes slowly.

"What time is it?" My voice was gravelly. I stretched and rubbed my eyes.

"0600. I'm going for a run. Are you coming?" He asked.

"When did we land?" I asked. "Where are we?"

"We're back near D.C." He rose and pulled open a cupboard. After pulling on a pair of shorts, he turned and faced me.

"So where did we go?"

"We had to pick something up at the science division academy. We landed while you were sleeping yesterday morning, and were on our way back yesterday. We landed here not long after we went to bed last night." He pulled a t-shirt over his head. "Are you coming for a run?"

"Ugh. I don't want to." I groaned. He kneeled on the bed and kissed my forehead. I rolled over and pulled the covers up over my head.

"Get up. I saw how slowly you were moving yesterday. We need to stretch you out so those muscles heal." He gave my bum a swat. I pulled the blankets down in irritation. Rather than glare at him, I reached out and pulled him close.

"I can think of other exercise that would be more enjoyable." I whispered. I felt his cheek smile against mine, and he slid his arms around me. And then sat me up.

"A run will help more." He tossed me a t-shirt and dropped my bag on the bed beside me. "I'll go make us coffee. Meet me in the galley in five."

I groaned and threw the t-shirt at his retreating form. Resigned, I dug through my bag for a pair of short yoga pants, and started dressing. I could have worn one of my t-shirts, but pulled the one he'd given me on. I hadn't managed to acquire a SHIELD shirt yet. I didn't think I'd be giving this one back. I pulled on socks and my runners, and headed down to the galley as I braided my ponytail. My coffee was ready and waiting. Phil was leaning against the counter, lost in thought. I took a position beside him and sipped my coffee. The sun streaming through the galley window reminded me I hadn't been off the plane in at least 36 hours, and even though I was dreading the running part, I was looking forward to the warmth of the spring sun on my skin.

And it was glorious. It was the perfect temperature outside, and the air held just enough morning moisture that the breeze prickled my skin as we ran. Phil didn't say a word; he just stayed to my pace. When I stopped to walk, he allowed me about twenty seconds before slapping my butt to get me running again. A few weeks ago, I would have been offended by the action. But after the experience at the academy, and the harsh reality of the attack on the Triskelion, I knew I needed the push to get my endurance. He wasn't commenting on my fitness, at any rate. He was just helping me improve.

I doubled over and put my hands on my knees, breathing heavy once we were back to the loading bay of the plane. Phil handed me a bottle of water. I wasn't sure where he'd found it, but I was grateful for it. I sat down on the ramp and started stretching. The sun angled across me, and when I was finished stretching out, I lay back on the metal grating, basking like a snake.

"How do you feel?" Phil squatted beside me.

"Good. It was a good pace. You didn't push too much." I complimented. He smiled and sat, his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Good. I asked Director Fury to let me see your personnel file again yesterday. Considering all the martial arts disciplines that you've done, I'm actually kind of surprised your cardio endurance isn't better." He commented.

"I hate running." It was true.

"I think the improvement is because your cardio is actually really good, and we just need to work on your endurance." He thought aloud. "Obviously, the training sessions are going to have to be restructured now. Fury was saying that the follow-up weeks will happen in house, instead of sending people away. There's some intel to suggest that whoever did this knew we'd be operating at a disadvantage, with so many staff off-site."

"I think I'd prefer that, to be honest." I admitted. "I am a creature of routine. I'd rather be in my own bed at night than a dorm bed. Particularly when I'm trying to learn a new skill."

"Speaking of. Your updated casualty list won't be available until after lunch. We should work on your shooting. I've arranged for your sidearm to be delivered this morning. Hopefully it will be here by the time we're ready, but you can use mine if it's not." He had obviously been thinking about this since the attack.

"Okay." I agreed.

"No arguments?"

"A gun wouldn't have helped me during the attack, but if there's a next time, it might." I might not have been a fan of the weapon, but I could see the value of having it and being competent with it. I scooted closer to him and leaned against his shoulder. We both had a post-run stink going on, and while it was unpleasant, it was a shared funk. He slipped his arm around me and we sat in silence, looking out at the heat waves causing a wavy-lined mirage on the airstrip.

XXX

Agent May brought the black case into the lounge and put it on the coffee table between Phil and me. He put his plate down, and popped it open. He nodded and smiled at the gun before turning the case toward me. It looked pretty much exactly the same as his, and I really wasn't conversant enough in weaponry to recognize if it had been different anyhow.

"It's the same as the one I used at the academy?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yup. Log in and sign all your sidearm paperwork when you're finished eating, and we'll get started." He smiled. "May, would you be able to join us? I think you might be able to help Anna."

"Yeah, I can do that." She picked up the gun and gave it a look over. I was suddenly significantly more intimidated about shooting. I cleared away our dishes and headed to the galley to wash up, but Phil caught up to me and took everything from me.

"Just go fill out your paperwork." He kissed my cheek and disappeared into the galley. My stomach did a little flop at the mental image of him in a ruffly white apron washing the dishes. So domestic and sexy. I licked my lips and turned around to seek out Skye and a computer. My suspicion that Phil had been thinking about this since the attack was confirmed when I found her, as she already had the computer connected to the network, and the paperwork was open on the desktop. I logged into my account, imported the documents, attached my digital signature and filed them in my personnel file with a few keystrokes. Skye sat across from me, and it was clear she was playing a game from her grin. No one smiled like that at a computer screen when they were working.

"What are you playing?" I asked, tempted to peer over the screen. She blushed and snapped the laptop shut.

"I'm actually working on a prank. Fitz-Simmons have been giving me a hard time because I didn't go through any of the academy training, so they keep playing all these pranks on me. Initiation stuff. It's never mean, and it's good fun, but I've been trying to figure out how to mess with them back. I've been thinking about messing up the holotable, but I can't figure out how." Skye admitted. I had a flash of brilliance.

"Could you take a movie file and have it convert onto the holotable as a 3D image?" I asked. She nodded. I logged into my email, and brought up the dancing Tony Stark email, and turned my laptop to face her. I pressed play. She stared, a look of horrified mesmerization on her face.

"Oh my god. This is perfect. I can't believe he sent that to you!" She laughed when I ended.

"Then you haven't met Stark yet." I warned her.

"Can I seriously use this?" She asked. I nodded, and she quickly forwarded it to herself. Phil appeared from the galley, and our heads sprung apart, like we were guilty of conspiring about something. Which we were. Phil raised an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know?" He asked.

"Probably not." I answered. Skye turned her attention back to the laptop and put on her serious working face. Phil shook his head, and nodded toward the stairs for me to follow him.

XXX

Agent May was not as intimidating as a range instructor as she'd been as a hand-to-hand tester. It seemed almost backward to me, until I realized she'd been intimidating on purpose because she was testing me, and she was being patient are careful with me with shooting because she knew I sucked. She corrected some stance issues that Phil had overlooked, and explained that how women hold guns is a little different than men do. Once she'd corrected my hold, the weird pain in my wrist I'd noticed in passing at the academy completely ceased.

I felt a little like I was learning to shoot in the Old West. May had found a fence at the edge of the airstrip and lined up pop cans from the recycling bin on it. Every time I knocked them all down, she would line them up again and make me do it again. I slowly improved, but it was frustrating. I would hit every can the first time I shot one time, then the next I would be all over the place.

"You can't expect to be a good shot overnight, Ellis." She said. "And you shouldn't expect to be as good as Phil, or me, or anyone else who works in the field on a regular basis."

"I know, I just –"

"Just nothing, Ellis. You should only ever need to use your sidearm in an emergency. And hopefully that will mean never. You need to be competent to use it, and you need to look confident so whoever is coming after you knows you will use it, but that doesn't mean you need to be an expert marksman." She cut me off. "You just need to be competent. So stop worrying about being the best, and start worrying about how your body feels when your shots are good."

I took a deep breath and nodded. She was right, of course. But I was a chronic overachiever perfectionist type personality, and I wanted to be as awesome as she was. I started repeating the mantra 'you are not a field agent' in my head. We continued on for a while longer, with Phil watching from the sidelines. He looked down at his phone and cleared his throat.

"Your casualty reports are in, Anna. Let's break for lunch." He approached, and watched critically as I flicked the safety on and holstered the gun. He'd ordered me a shoulder holster, and it felt weird. The gun was bulky in my armpit.

"This holster is awkward." I complained. May turned me to face her and tugged on it a little. She turned me around and adjusted the straps at the back and it slipped down and sat much more comfortably.

"Good pick. This is a really comfortable shoulder holster." She complimented.

"Phil picked it." I shrugged. "I really know nothing about weapons. And their accessories. Okay, that's not true. I know enough that I will be safe with this, and I know how to load it and unload it, and what kind of ammunition to buy. But I really… a shoulder holster seems almost like a fashion item, you know?"

"Well, I don't think this one comes in pink." She teased me. At least, I thought she was teasing me. I laughed anyhow, and was rewarded with what I knew to be a rare smile.

"Darn. I really want it to match my favourite purse." I made sure my tone was wry.

"You picked a good one, Phil." May said to him. He smirked.

"The shoulder holster or the girl?" He asked. She rolled her eyes and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

It was unsettling to process more death benefits. I'd hoped, naïvely, that the injured and unaccounted for would all remain injured. There weren't a great deal more files to process, but there were enough that I felt the heavy sorrow weighing back down on me again. There were so many casualties from the HR department. I felt a little sick going through them. It was as though the main strike had been in our office. When I was finished inputting the remaining information, I did a quick search of my department. Of the thirty employees, only eight had survived the attack. Not a single one of us was in the department during the attack either. It was a troubling statistic, and I grabbed my laptop and darted into the command centre. It looked like it was just Phil, May and Ward in there, but from where I'd been sitting I couldn't see the communications screen.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but you have to see this, Phil." I plunked the laptop down on the holotable, and the windows I'd had open on the laptop flashed up holographically. I hadn't been expecting that, and jumped back.

"This had better be important, Ellis." I looked up at the communication screen and saw Director Fury and Agent Hill glaring at me.

"I wouldn't have barged in here if it wasn't, Director." I snapped. "I've been rather busy processing the casualties, and it's really need to know information anyhow, but I don't know if you have figured out where the attack started yet."

"We're still investigating at this point." Hill responded. I flicked open a file folder on the holotable, and brought up the list of HR employees.

"As I worked through the updated casualty list today, I saw something very startling to me. Human Resources employees thirty staff at the Triskelion. It's our main office. Of the thirty staff members, only eight survived the attack on the building."

"Most of the departments took similar hits." Hill informed me. I nodded.

"But look at this." I separated out the on-site staff to the casualty list. Mine was the only name to still be the bright blue of an active employee. "I'm the only person who lived who worked in HR, who was in the building. The other seven employees were at the academy for training. If the attack didn't start in HR, HR was definitely the target."

"How does this compare to other departments?" Fury demanded. I brought up the other departmental employee rosters quickly, and flipped them open.

"Payroll has 24 employees. 6 were at the academy. They suffered twelve casualties, so that means six survivors from on-site." I flipped that folder closed. "R&D has 75 employees. 23 were at the academy, two had called in sick, and they had 13 casualties. Just under half the total department survived the attack. Those are the two departments located the closest to us in HR. Data Analysis had four casualties of 83 employees who were on-site. Medical had even fewer casualties, and the Armory had none. Security and Support Services are the only other departments that came close, and that is understandable, as they aren't centred in one part of the building. They're all over the place. But even Security and Support Services didn't take the same hit as HR."

"Thank you, Ellis. You did some fine analytical work there." Fury commended me.

"Sir, I would have thought that Data Analysis or R&D would be more probably targets." I added.

"That was the general assumption, Ellis." Hill nodded.

"Again, sorry for the interruption. I'll be leaving now." I closed up the laptop and pulled it from the holotable, dropping the images. As I turned to leave, Fury cleared his throat.

"The restructuring of HR may need to be more drastic than anticipated, Ellis. Are you prepared for what may be coming?" He asked. I turned back to look at him, confused.

"Sir?" I asked.

"You will be the director of the department." He prompted.

"I understand that. I just don't understand where I ever had a choice in the matter. With all due respect, sir, you told me this was an order. You obviously think me competent enough to manage this restructuring project or you wouldn't have assigned me to it. With those two things in mind, I don't understand your question."

Agent Hill turned away from the screen, but not before I saw her bite her lip. I glanced over at Phil and he gave me a perturbed look. Fury raised his good eyebrow.

"That was all the answer I needed. You're dismissed." He barked. I made a beeline from the command centre to the bar, and poured myself a drink. Skye came speeding by from the bunks and dragged me to the stairs above the lab. Before I could ask what was happening, she put her finger to her lips and pointed down. As if on cue, a startled and horrified scream came from the lab.

"Was that Simmons?" I whispered. Skye's eyes were wide with amusement, and she shrugged. Simmons' feminine voice floated up to us.

"What was that for, Fitz? You know I'm trying to analyze –" Her voice trailed off. "Dear god, is that Iron Man? Is he stripping?"

"It was Fitz that screamed!" Skye's laugh was a muffled wheeze.

"My eyes!" Fitz howled. "Good lord, those are Union flag briefs!"

I shot a look at Skye. She took a few calming breaths.

"I altered the underpants from an American flag to the Union Jack." She dissolved into giggles again.

"SKYE! I know you're out here somewhere!" Simmons hollered into the cargo bay. Skye pulled me away from the catwalk edge. I stumbled on the grated floor beneath my feet, and the noise reverberated through the cargo hold. Simmons came out and glared at us. She pointed at Skye and pointed into the lab. Skye had obviously done something to the holotable in the lab to make Tony's sexy dance play on a continuous loop. We descended to the lab, both of us unable to stop giggling. I'd seen the video in full colour when Stark had sent it to me, but even that couldn't prepare me for the 3D rendered sexy dancing Iron Man that was bopping around on the holotable. My hands flew to my mouth to stop me from screeching in amusement.

"Fix it. Skye, fix it. I've always said you were lovely, and kind. So you need to make this stop." Fitz turned to us, his eyes wide with horror.

"Will the pranks and initiation garbage stop?" Skye asked, hand on her hip.

"I swear." He nodded. Skye walked over to the holotable and flicked her hands around a little. Stripping Iron Man vanished.

"Where did that even come from?" Simmons asked.

"Apparently older men have a thing for Anna." Skye smirked. I furrowed my brow.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Well, A.C. is really fond of you. And apparently Stark likes you enough to send you naughty emails."

"Stark was trying to provoke me because he was going to be in my sexual harassment seminar. He doesn't like me at all!" I exclaimed.

"Union flag knickers suggest otherwise." Fitz deadpanned. I glared at him.

"They were an American flag in the original. Which shows how little Stark knows his audience." I retorted.

"Does Coulson know he has competition?" Simmons teased.

"Hey! Just because you promised Skye you wouldn't prank her anymore doesn't mean I get to be the next target!" I protested. "Besides, I have more horrifying movies I can get Skye to hack you with, if I need them. Dancing Iron Man is just the tip of a Titanic-sinking iceberg."

It was an empty threat, but I dangled that sword over their heads anyhow. Fitz put his hands up in surrender. Simmons crossed her arms across her chest and pouted.

"We never get to have any fun at all." She complained.

"I thought Dancing Iron Man was lots of fun." Skye laughed. "I would have stuffed a bill in his pants when he showed up at my seminar. Please say you did, Annie."

"I did not. I kind of wish I had though." I laughed. It felt good to have someone feel familiar enough to include me in the jokes. Skye probably had no idea how much calling me Annie mended my grieving heart.

XXX

"You woke up four times last night, Anna. Are you sure you're okay?" Phil had his hands on my shoulders and was staring at me, dead serious. I met his gaze and nodded.

"I will be fine, Phil. As long as there's a coffee maker, I will be fine." I assured him, placing a hand on his chest and smiling.

"If these nightmares continue, or get worse, you'll need to see someone." He recommended. I raised an eyebrow.

"We can get couple PTSD therapy." I replied, dripping sarcasm. Phil sighed.

"I am fine." He was firm.

"As am I." I stepped inside the circle of his arms, and laid my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist. His hands dropped to my back. "I promise, Phil. I'll be fine."

"Let me know if there is anything you need." He squeezed me, and pulled away. I nodded. It seemed ridiculous to be so distraught about being apart from him, but after the past few days, and the week before, it felt strange to be planning a day away from him.

"I will." I promised.

"I'll pick you up back here at five." He said. I leaned back into Lola and grabbed my purse. With a quick kiss on the cheek, and headed down the block and around the corner to the building that was going to be the temporary HR headquarters. Fury was waiting at reception to tour through the new offices. He looked down at his watch.

"I was not expecting you so early." He opened.

"Sir, lying doesn't become you. You wouldn't have been waiting for me if you didn't expect me." I retorted and breezed past him. He shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like 'is it in the fucking job description that SHIELD women here have to be sassy?' I turned and gave him a look, hands on my hips.

"What?" He asked.

"Peggy Carter was one of the founding members of this agency, Director Fury. Yes, sassy is part of the job description." I snapped. He had the decency to look just a tiny bit embarrassed. He stepped ahead of me, and showed me through the offices. SHIELD had done a great job of getting the place ready. There were new desks, new computers, a few printers, a giant photocopier, and in the kitchenette, a beautiful, shiny, new chrome coffee maker. Full of fresh coffee. I pulled down a SHIELD mug (Seriously, the goddamn logo was on _everything_) and poured a cup.

"McKay will be in at ten, and the rest of the department will be here by noon. You have an 0900 meeting, and then you and I will start on the restructuring." Fury poured himself a coffee as well.

"Is Erin not being considered for promotion as well?" I asked.

"We've moved McKay into the deputy director position, but she will not be involved in the restructuring." He explained. We leaned against opposite counters, drinking our coffee and chatting about most insignificant issues surrounding the office for the next fifteen minutes. Office supplies delivery, timelines to be back into the Triskelion, lunch plans for the staff coming in. Apparently Fury had decided to have lunch catered for the tiny pool of survivors. We refilled our coffee cups, and he led me to my office. The front walls were frosted glass, and in clear relief was the SHIELD logo, and the words 'Director of Human Resources'. Right below that was my name. I shivered. It was about the same size as the one I'd shared with Erin, but it was mine alone. The desk was bare except for a fancy new clear screen monitor. The bookshelf had nothing on it. It was just a bare, sterile office. I sighed and put down my coffee mug.

Fury tilted his head, and looked toward the front of the office, obviously getting a message from security on this earpiece.

"Stark is here. I'm going to follow up on those items we discussed, and we'll continue shortly." He excused himself and disappeared into the office that had been set aside for the new deputy director. I saw Stark brush past the security guard who was trying to lead him to my office, and head more directly toward me. He was wearing sunglasses and a scowl, but when he saw me, he pulled off the sunglasses. Kept the scowl until he was close enough to get a good look at me. He relaxed. No smile, but I saw the tension drop from his shoulders.

"Mr. Stark. Welcome to the new HR office. I hope you won't be as frequent a visitor as you were to the old one." I smiled. He finally smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I gestured toward the chair by my desk. He looked around, unimpressed.

"This room is sterile. Boring. It needs some decoration." He announced. Before I could respond, he brought his arm from behind his back, and placed a Thor bobblehead on my desk. It was dirty, scratched, and Mjolnir had a chip out of the side of it. I felt my eyes fill with tears as I realized it was _my_ Thor bobblehead. From the Triskelion. I threw my arms around Stark and felt the tears start. He rocked back, startled by my response.

"Oh my god. I can't –" I pulled away and dashed my tears. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. How unprofessional of me. How – where – how did you find him?"

Stark smiled and held out what looked like a shirt box. I took it and pulled the lid off. It was my Thor scrapbook.

"There's an alarming lack of me in that scrapbook. I took the liberty of signing the one news clipping with all of the Avengers in it. I may have also added some information about Iron Man. Suit specs, favourite hockey team, you know, important fangirl information." He commented. I sat down in the chair I'd offered him and dropped my head into my hands, unable to stem the tide of tears. I reached behind me for the box of tissues on my desk and blew my nose. I looked up at him and shook my head, wiping at the tears.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you doesn't seem like enough." My voice broke. "We lost so many people, it's stupid to be crying over a bobblehead."

"It's not stupid, Ellis." He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a bloodstained Captain America card. "This still makes my chest ache."

"What's the significance?" I asked, turning the card over. Other than the blood, it was a really nice vintage card. No real wear, no bends.

"It was Coulson's." He said. "We've suffered a similar loss, Ellis. Keeping the reminders around makes us stronger."

He dropped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I met his eyes and saw the empathy in them. I handed him the card back, and put my scrapbook on my desk. I stood, and smoothed the front of my skirt and pulled him into another hug.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." My voice was a hoarse whisper. He squeezed me in his arms, then held me at arms length and inspected me.

"Your knees are still a mess. But you've cleaned up alright. I just wanted to be sure. There were so many people who are yet to be accounted for. I'm glad you're okay." He smirked. "I would hate to have someone else finish my seminar."

I shook my head and smiled.

"We'll consider this one completed. I don't want to have you back for another one, Mr. Stark."

"Tony. I've saved your life. You can call me Tony now. Just try not to scream my name when you're with your boyfriend." He winked. "These walls need some décor. I'll send over a painting. Pepper keeps investing in art. You like Munch? Maybe that's too dark, considering? I'll figure something out. It'll be a loan, you understand, or Pepper will lose her mind, but we'll make your office a Stark Foundation art gallery location." He was off on one of the rambling discourses he was famous for as he headed out of my office. He peeked into the other office and waved at Fury before heading out.


	9. Chapter 9

Fury must have known that meeting with Stark was going to make me emotional because he gave me a few minutes to regain my composure once I was alone before he joined me again. He handed me a tablet, and moved my monitor out of the centre of my desk so we could see one another. He didn't touch Thor though, leaving the bobblehead right where Stark had placed him.

"Before the attack, I wanted to restructure HR. This has just made it more pressing. I'd like to downsize all the HR offices, and centralize most of the work here at HQ." He began.

"What about new hires? We can't centralize with just a skeleton staff." I countered. He nodded.

"HR is a liability right now. The various offices hold 85% of the level 9 and higher staff. It's the perfect target for an attack because once the office is disabled, all those locked down files are available. We have a number of options. My first recommendation is to limit the number of staff with high security access."

"I actually forwarded a proposal to Jenkins recommending that shortly before she went on leave." I logged into my personal network drive, and pulled the report, flicking it across to Fury's tablet. He scanned through it quickly.

"I never saw this."

"She killed it. She said that our security clearance was vital to our work. But, sir, it's not. When you forwarded me casualty lists, it was by employee ID. There's no reason why we can't do all our work on ID numbers without ever knowing who we're working on. Particularly Payroll, benefits, and insurance claims. No one needs to know who is accessing those items. The only time anyone needs access to actual personnel files is for disciplinary actions. And those are so limited, one employee could manage it." I explained. "I actually developed a detailed proposal that would allow all HR and Payroll employees to be dropped to a level 4 clearance level."

"Is that part of this?" He gestured to the file he had open on his tablet. I nodded. He scrolled back to the top and read through it thoroughly. While he was reading, I took our coffee mugs and refilled them. I stopped and greeted the temporary receptionist, and introduced myself to the security guard. As I was at the front of the office, Erin hurried in. She saw me, dropped her purse on the floor and pulled me into a hug.

"Thank god you're okay." She breathed. "I was told you were, but I couldn't get you on your phone."

"I haven't been home." I explained. "Let me show you to your new office."

I led her back to the etched glass walls that read 'Deputy Director, Human Resources' and looked at her. She ran her fingers across her name.

"Is this a joke?" She asked.

"Check out the office beside you." I tilted my head toward my office door. Her jaw dropped.

"The fuck?"

"We've both been promoted. Jenkins is not coming back. Our division took the highest casualties, so Fury and I have just started a restructuring meeting. The rest of the remaining staff will be in shortly. If you could get everyone settled, and finish processing any outstanding injury claims, as soon as we've settled any of the changes, I'll read you in." I explained. "I think I got most of the files completed, but as we get condition updates on survivors there are changes that will need to be made. The info should be on our shared drive."

"Wow." She stared at me. "Yeah, I'll get started. I'll let you know if I need anything, Madam Director." She winked and headed into her office.

I returned to my desk and handed Fury his coffee. He nodded his thanks and finished reading the proposal I'd developed.

"This is a very well developed proposal, and very much along the lines of what I had been considering. It needs some additional work, in light of the attack, but you've saved us at least a week of brainstorming with this." Fury commended me. I smiled.

"Thank you."

"I would argue that you and the deputy direction should maintain your security clearance." He pointed to an area in the implementation section of my proposal.

"With all due respect sir, our security clearance comes with a target on our backs. I would prefer to see a field agent brought in and trained for the position I recommended. I'm not sure you are aware, but despite resenting the training you had us all head off to, I didn't disagree with your assessment that all employees should have basic field competencies. I think we're living in a world of eventualities and risks, and SHIELD employees should be able and ready to actively protect themselves. But for this particular position, I'd like to see someone trained for operations in the job." I argued.

"I agree completely. But I think that the director and deputy director should be field operatives." He stated simply. I was confused, and likely looked like I'd been sucking a lemon, trying to puzzle out what he meant.

"Then why did you promote us?" I asked. "If you're just going to replace us with field operatives?"

"I have no intention of replacing you." He spoke slowly and clearly, as though I was missing something. Because I was missing something.

"What?" I shrieked. "I can barely shoot my sidearm, Director Fury. I can't run without wanting to collapse. I've never taken any of the real classes offered at the academy, like How to be a Badass Spy 101 or Strategy or Recognizing a Bad Guy As Soon As You See Him, or anything."

"You don't need those classes, Ellis. You analyzed the data about the attack in less than eight hours, and came to a strongly supported conclusion based on the scant information at your disposal. Agent May has said you have a strong instinct regarding covert operations, based on your performance at the academy and how you fled from the Triskelion after the attack. These are things we look for in recruits and we hone those skills in the academy and in the field. All agents go through quarterly assessments for basic competencies, but you've already passed those. You passed them last week at the academy." He explained. "Even on the range, you passed basic competencies. No one is asking you to train to be Agent May, or Agent Romanoff."

"But –" I started.

"This department needs someone running it who is competent. You've proven yourself as the acting director. I have no doubts about your abilities in other areas." His tone was final.

"Erin is going to lose her mind over this." I warned him.

"I am well aware of McKay's opinion about field training. Let me deal with it." His stare was unsettling. I wasn't sure if it was just the intensity of it, or the fact that the eye patch made him really foreboding, but I certainly had no plans to argue with him.

We hashed through the remaining six HR employees' personnel files, looking at strengths and weaknesses, and what areas they should take over for the restructuring. Lunch arrived just as everyone was trickling into the office, and Fury had it set out in the conference room and invited everyone in to serve themselves and sit. He ran through the situation so far, and then explained that I was the new director, and Erin was the new deputy. No one seemed surprised. But then he dropped the bomb on them.

"Effective immediately, your security clearance is being revoked down to level three. Director Ellis and Deputy Director McKay will continue to carry advanced security clearance, but they will also be in and out of the office a great deal over the coming months as they complete their field competencies." He explained. The room had been quiet, but the staff even stopped chewing at this revelation.

"I'm sorry, Director Fury, are you suggesting that Annie and Erin are going to take operations training?" Elaine asked. She was older, and had been talking about taking early retirement for a few years. I wondered if the restructuring would drive her to making that decision sooner than she'd planned.

"That is what I am saying. We still have a great deal to plan an execute, but this is the start of some big changes for this department." Fury confirmed.

"I don't understand how we are to be expected to effectively work if we no longer have security clearances." Elaine pressed.

"We are moving to a blind system. All employees have a permanent SHIELD identification number, and you will work entirely with those numbers from now on. For situations requiring knowledge of the actual personnel, the case will be forwarded to Ellis or McKay, and they will manage it." Fury highlighted an example of a personnel file on the wall monitor to show how they would appear from now on.

"Surely this will cause a backlog of work for them. Particularly now. There will be a huge influx of new hires to replace those employees who were lost, god bless them." Elaine argued.

"We will not be increasing the staffing complement of HR or Payroll for the foreseeable future. In fact, we are planning further downsizing in both departments as we establish new protocols." I could tell Fury was getting frustrated, but I thought the questions were valid.

"This department has eight staff left! Who are you planning on cutting?" Gordon asked. Gordon was our database specialist. He'd been one of seven.

"There will be no further cuts from this location. Other locations will be downsized or streamlined into this location. New hires can be done by any member of this team, dependent on the security clearance of the hire. Only level four and higher will need to be administered by Ellis or McKay." Fury sat back and started his sandwich, effectively shutting down questioning for the moment. The silence in the room was overwhelming. I shot Erin a worried look and she sighed into her coffee cup.

"Director Fury, I understand that this training program you wanted us all to complete is still on the table. How is that going to be administered now?" She asked.

"Agent Jackson will be meeting with you individually to determine what your training needs are, and will be tailoring individual education plans to meet your needs. You and Ellis, in particular, will be assigned Supervising Officers to work with you to ensure you meet competencies as soon as possible."

"Are there any other department heads who will be undergoing similar training and Annie and I?" Erin pressed.

"The heads of every department will be expected to make and maintain operations competencies." Fury was unwilling to elaborate further. We continued eating in silence until Fury rose and excused us back to my office to continue working on the restructuring. The afternoon flew by. At four, Stark walked back into the office, a guy with a dolly of tall, thin boxes in tow. I walked out to the lobby to greet him.

"Tony, what are you doing?" I asked, interrupting him as he pointed at a wall.

"I promised you art this morning, Annie. I hit a wall on the Mark 43, and decided this would be more fun."

"Well, then. Don't let me get in your way." I rolled my eyes and walked back to my office. I kept an eye on him as he took over the space and started bossing people around so that his guy could hang art. He pushed into my office and nodded at Fury.

"Okay, hang that last one behind her desk. Make yourself scarce for a few minutes, princess." Stark turned to us and waved his hands. My mouth dropped open in protest. "You too, Annie. I want this to be a surprise."

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing, and grabbed Fury's coffee cup.

"Coffee, sir?" I asked. Fury scratched his forehead and rose to head out of my office. I refilled his coffee cup and handed it to him. I walked into Erin's office to see what she'd had hung up in her office. It was a Picasso. I stepped around her desk and got close to it.

"Jesus Christ, Erin, is that real?" I breathed.

"He says yes." She replied. "It's my favourite painting. How did he know?"

"Tony Stark has depths none of us realized, I think." I shook my head. I heard him call my name from my office, and followed it back. He met me outside the door, covered my eyes, steered me into the room, and pointed me at my wall.

"Okay, are you ready?" He asked. There was a suspicious tone to his voice, and I could tell there was a prank at the heart of his generosity. He dropped his hands. I opened my eyes slowly and sighed.

"Seriously, Tony?" I laughed. "Thank god it's behind me, so I never have to look at it." It was a huge art-deco style Iron Man poster.

"I told you there was a profound lack of me in your scrapbook." He teased.

"So Erin got a Picasso. And I got an Iron Man poster?" I snorted. He pointed at the side wall of my office. I had been so confounded by the Iron Man poster that I hadn't seen the smaller painting that had been mounted there. I didn't even realize I was moving, I walked over to it so quickly.

"That's not possibly the real one." I gasped, trying to stop myself from touching the painting, in case Tony Stark truly was stupid enough to put Starry Night in my office.

"It is not the real one. But I suspected you would be a Van Gogh fan." He shrugged.

"I am."

"Then turn around." He said. I spun to face the other wall. There were sunflowers on it. Van Gogh must have painted a dozen sunflower paintings in his life. I made my way to it slowly and felt myself get lightheaded.

"No. Fucking. Way. This one is real, isn't it?" I just stared.

"That one is." He confirmed. I reached back for my chair and pulled it under me, sitting down heavily.

"Why?"

"Because sometimes life sucks. And sometimes you need to be reminded that there's beauty all around us. And because Pepper keeps buying all this goddamn art and I have fucking clue what to do with it. So because you amuse me, and very little these days makes me happy, I'm sharing my collection." He shrugged.

"What's the catch?" I demanded. He laughed.

"No catch, sunshine. Just don't let this place get blown up, okay?" He smirked.

"Unfortunately, Tony, I have no control over that. But if I does blow, I'll try to grab those sunflowers on the way out." I promised. "I mean, if you aren't already here to save me."

"Should I embed a GPS tracker in your arm?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Keep you safe all the time? JARVIS could keep an eye on you for me. Let me know when you need saving."

"Now you're getting creepy." I rose and started walking toward the door. "It's been lovely, but the business day is almost over, and I have some loose ends to tie up with Director Fury."

Stark followed me to the front of the office.

"You and Pepper would get along well. You and your boyfriend should come by for dinner sometime." He shook my hand. I smiled blandly.

"Perhaps." I obviously couldn't accept the offer, but I appreciated the clarity of it. He was no longer hitting on me, but treating me with the respect I'd suspected he'd always had for women.

"You don't think your boyfriend would like me, do you? I can behave. I can tone myself down." He narrowed his eyes in thought. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried not to laugh.

"Tony Stark, it is not in your nature to tone down. And I'm sure my boyfriend would eventually develop a grudging respect for you. Maybe. But I don't think now is the time to test that. Everything is still very raw here, and he's very busy with the aftermath of the attack." I explained.

"Oh, dating within the ranks. Is that even allowed?" Stark teased.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stark." I held the door open for him, and ushered him out. He was still talking about something as I pulled the door shut again and walked away.

"Did she just dismiss me?" I heard him ask the painting-hanging guy. I shook my head and headed back to my office.


	10. Chapter 10

Fury sent out a memo regarding the restructuring and had me begin to immediately downgrade security clearance on the remaining HR employees, as well as the payroll employees. One of the last decisions he made before leaving the office was to merge payroll with HR. Quite frankly, it made sense. I pulled up an active list of HR and payroll staff and began the arduous task of downgrading clearances. I completely lost track of time, and didn't realize I was alone in the office until Phil walked in, tapping his watch.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised.

"It's half past five, Annie." He pulled up a chair and sat across from me. "Nice poster."

I looked down at my watch and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Phil. Fury wanted this restructuring stuff done today. Thank god I'd already developed a proposal for it, or I probably wouldn't be leaving the office for a month." I apologized.

"I understand." He picked up Thor and looked at him. "So Stark was obviously in today."

"Which was the big tell? The giant poster?" I laughed.

"Only one person could have done that and also returned this cheesy thing." He smiled. I stood up and stretched, and rounded the corner of my desk to where he was seated. I slipped into his lap and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. His arms encircled my waist reflexively, and he kissed my collarbone.

"I missed you today. That's weird, right?" I leaned down and brought my lips to his.

"The bus felt quite empty this afternoon." He admitted. "Are you going to be long? I can go pick up dinner for us."

"I have a lot more. You don't need to wait around." I wanted him to wait. He kissed my collarbone again, his fingers digging into my hips. He obviously wanted to wait too.

"I'll bring us dinner." He slipped me off his lap. I returned to my computer and went back to work. I was still slogging away on the clearances when he returned. Whatever he'd brought smelled incredible and my mouth started watering uncontrollably. He started pulling containers out of the brown paper bag. Before he opened anything, he pulled out napkins, and cutlery and a bottle of what I thought was wine, but turned out to be fizzy water. He retrieved coffee mugs from the kitchenette and poured us both drinks. I tried peeking into the containers of food, but he smacked my hands away, pulling a couple of paper plates out of the bottom of the bag with a flourish. He finally opened the plastic carry-away containers, and served out the meal. It was some sort of chicken in sauce on rice. I nearly had to sit on my hands waiting for him to pass my plate to me. It was incredible. Even the steamed vegetables were perfection. I said as much, between mouthfuls.

"I just popped into the restaurant in the lobby. You'll have to be careful you don't spend your whole paycheque there, if this is what their food is always like." He laughed.

"I wonder if my new position comes with an expense account." I joked. We fell silent, focused on the meal. When we finished, he cleared everything away while I finished the last few employee files. I met him in the kitchenette to wash up my coffee mug. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and was bent over the sink washing the other dishes that had accumulated through the day. I leaned against the wall and watched in silence, admiring the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders. His forearms were strong, and his hands were capable. The way he held the dishes as he washed them was damn near erotic. He pulled a tea towel off his shoulder to dry his hands and I sucked in my breath. He turned, surprised. I held out my mug.

"Do this one next." I breathed. A confused look flashed across his face, but when he saw the flush in my cheeks, his smile became mercenary. He took a step toward me, and laid the tea towel back over his shoulder. Damp hands closed around my wrists and he pushed me against the wall, holding my hands above my head. I bit my lip and looked him in the eye, swallowing nervously. He blinked slowly, and I dragged a deep breath in through my mouth. He stepped in, closing the narrow distance between us, and slanted his mouth across mine. My knees went weak, and I dropped the mug. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it. It crashed on the floor, startling us both. Phil looked down and shook his head.

"You'd better hope you get an expense account. You're killer on the coffee cups." He teased. We both knelt down at the same time to collect the broken shards, and narrowly avoided smacking our heads into one another. Our knees touched and Phil's eyes found mine.

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"You are becoming a distraction." Both his face and his tone were unreadable.

"That's not a good thing." I suddenly felt sick and stood back up. He turned away to drop the remains of the coffee cup into the garbage. I must have looked upset because he took my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of them.

"No, Annie, uh, Anna, I didn't mean it that way." The words came out in a hurried mess. "I just keep looking at you and seeing tomorrow."

If I'd had another coffee cup, I probably would have dropped it too.

XXX

Unbelievably, I was up and out the door for a run at 0600. On my own. Phil had taken me home, but was needed back on the bus, so hadn't been able to stay. I knew the only way I was going to get any better at the running thing was to keep doing it. And I felt as though I had an obligation to my staff to be an example. So I was going to take all this operations training seriously. And that meant running in the mornings, and ensuring I wore my sidearm at work, despite the awkward bulk in my armpit. Part of me wanted to start wearing a SHIELD uniform so I could just strap the damn piece to my side in a hip holster and look like a badass. But since I was not a badass, it was probably a bad move.

I'd carefully mapped out a route that would take me just over five kilometres, and wound through the streets until I got to the park. I alternated between running and walking. It was a warm morning, and I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead, and soaking the back of the SHIELD t-shirt I'd stolen from Phil.

"Where'd you get the t-shirt?" A female voice came from beside me, as another runner fell in beside me. The shirt only had the logo on it, so I didn't see the harm in wearing it out in public. Most people would just think 'Huh. Eagle'. Obviously this woman was not most people.

"Stole it from my boyfriend." I responded.

"Cool. I've been trying to get one for ages, but can't figure out who to go to." She replied. "How did your academy week go?"

I stopped to look at her. She knew who I was, so I was hoping I knew her as well. She looked passingly familiar. I narrowed my eyes. She tapped me and urged me to start running again.

"It was exhausting." I admitted. I knew I should know her.

"Lex Richmond." She offered. "I'm the doc –"

"The doc who did my physical. Of course. Sorry, out of context." I apologized, and immediately relaxed.

"It happens. I thought I recognized you, and then with the t-shirt, it totally placed you in my head. This is why I need one of those t-shirts!" She laughed.

"I thought you were working out of New York?" I asked. She nodded.

"I was. I still am, I'm only temporarily here. I'm assigned to medical for about a month, until the staff injured in the attack are back to work, and until there's a new med wing. It's going to be weird to have all the different divisions spread around the city." Her ability to carry on a conversation while we were running was impressive. Every time I spoke, I needed to slow to a walk.

"Yeah, I kind of wonder how quickly they'll be able to break ground on a new HQ." I gasped. She slowed her pace just a little.

"Are you new to running?"

"Does it show?" I was sarcastic before my first coffee. She laughed.

"What's the end goal?" She pressed.

"Five kilometres, without stopping. In a half hour, if I'm remembering correctly. Apparently that means I'll be able to save myself in an emergency." I answered.

"Well, I'm here for a month if you want a training buddy." She offered.

"Won't that screw up your run though?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I run twice a day. I have a crazy metabolism so slowing down will not negatively affect me." She looked guarded, like she was hiding something. I could accept secrets. I was going to have to keep a pretty big one from her.

"Then I think I would appreciate that. It's hard to motivate yourself to something you don't particularly enjoy." I laughed.

"You'll come to love it. Runner's high is a powerful thing." She laughed. "Anyhow, this is my turning off point. Should we meet back tomorrow morning?"

I looked around to get my bearings. We were about half a kilometre from my apartment. I nodded.

"That would be awesome."

"Cool. See you tomorrow morning." She started running again, in the opposite direction that I was headed. I headed home and hit the shower before heading to work.

XXX

Fury was waiting in my office and we immediately settled into the restructuring again. At lunch, he sat back and stretched, lacing his fingers on the back of his head.

"You've presented a unique challenge to me." He began. I sighed. Seriously, what now?

"Oh?" I tried to go for non-committal. It came off terse.

"Well, I can't assign Jackson as your S.O., as he says you were once in a relationship. I thought maybe Eriksson, but he says there's a conflict of interest there as well. I don't want to tag May or Ward because they're on Coulson's team. And I obviously can't assign Coulson to you. You haven't left me with many options." He explained.

"There are more than five agents who work for SHIELD, sir." I rolled my eyes.

"There are. The issue that complicates matters is that with your clearance, and previous lack of training, Hill and I feel that you should have the best training you to promote the quickest learning. You need one of our best to propel you forward, identify and target the weak areas. And you've effectively dated yourself out of five of our top agents." He rubbed his forehead.

"This could be an argument for my exceptional taste." I was at a loss as to what to say. Fury smirked and let out a sharp breath.

"Or that you like dangerous men. I'm not judging you, Ellis, let me be clear. I could bring in Barton for sidearm training, but you'd need to be careful. Similarly, Romanoff would be the best person to work with you on your hand-to-hand, since your skills are already quite advanced. But they tend to be tied up with the Initiative so I'll need to figure out a back-up plan. What you really need is a handler." He thought out loud. I just sat back and listened, as it was clear he wasn't looking for input.

"Should I order in some lunch, sir?" I asked. He nodded. I excused myself and went to see if Erin was interested in anything before I called down to the restaurant in the lobby that Phil had discovered.

Fury was on the phone when I returned to my desk. I collected our coffee cups and gave him some privacy. It was going to be nice when the restructuring was settled, and I had my office to myself so I could settle in to my new role. When lunch arrived, I took it into the office and sat with Fury. We ate in silence. Unlike when Phil fell quiet, I found Fury's silence unsettling. The minutes crept by as we ate. I glanced up at my email and saw a huge pile of emails. Most of them were confirmation receipts for the security downgrades. There was an email from Lex at the bottom of the list. I scanned it quickly and smiled before responding. She was firming up our running plans.

"You don't need to find me a running buddy, sir. I found one for myself." I offered, breaking the silence. Fury raised his eyebrow.

"Did you join a gym? Hire a trainer?"

"Ran into Dr. Richmond this morning on my run and she offered to help." I was pretty pleased with myself.

"Your ability to keep a secret is going to be sorely tested, Ellis. She's heavily involved in the Initiative."

"Sir, I've been at my current security clearance for six years." I stated. "When the Triskelion was attacked, Coulson told me not to go to the muster point. That the agency had been compromised. What came of that?" I needed to change the subject. I was sick of hearing about how I was going to be trained into a super agent. Even if that wasn't the plan, it's how it felt, and after two days of it, I was more interested in learning about the attack and how that investigation was going.

"The attack was far too well planned to be an outside job." Fury was curt.

"But –"

"Your data analysis confirmed it. HR was targeted from within, with the goal of eradicating the department. I think that the academy training probably threw a wrench into whomever was responsible's plans, as it meant they were only getting some of the department. Quite frankly, Coulson was right to tell you to run. You may have been specifically targeted had you shown up at the muster point. This is part of the reason we need to bring in the best to train you. You need to be at the top of your game as soon as possible. If I thought we had time to waste using lower level agents, I would. I don't want to risk Coulson's cover at all. But your safety has become a huge liability, and SHIELD needs to ensure that both you and McKay are safe." Fury rubbed his eyebrow. He was tired. I wondered if he'd slept since the attack.

"There was a random suit who tried to arrest me after the attack." I remembered.

"I read Agent May's report on that." He nodded.

"I don't understand, sir. I'm not special. I'm no one important." I protested.

"Leading up to the attack you were the acting head of Human Resources. You could access the entirety of any personnel file of any SHIELD employee, at any time, from any computer in the world. That includes real names, covers, locations, families. You're the only one who has all that information." By the tone of his voice, his patience had run out. He expected me to have realized all that already. I felt sick. The air in the room grew thick, and rushed in my ears. I started to see spots in front of my eyes and I was having a hard time breathing. I dropped my head between my knees and groped around on the desk for the paper bag our lunch had come in. I pressed it against my face, closed my eyes and forced myself to slow my breathing.

"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god." I muttered as I began to regain my calm. To his credit, Fury retained his calm. I wasn't sure how many agents he'd seen have panic attacks before, but he seemed familiar with it and knew better than to touch me, or try to help. I sat back up and reached for my water. Taking a deep breath, I flexed my fingers, and stretched my hands to help them stop shaking.

"So now you understand the urgency." He continued, as though I hadn't just melted down in front of him. "And you understand why I can't just replace you with an operations agent. Your knowledge makes you a target."

"I don't want this." I formed the words carefully.

"I don't either. But the other options are not ones I would like to explore at this time. I don't need to be responsible for more broken lives." He was grim. "Agent Hill and I will be handling you personally. We will coordinate your training schedule. I will have a conversation with Dr. Richmond about your general fitness, since she's going to be running with you. Barton and Romanoff will be on-board for specialized training. You'll alternate 2 hours a day between them. At the end of each week, I will personally oversee your progress testing. I am a very busy man, Ellis. Do not waste my time."

"Understood." I nodded. He rose and collected his tablet and bottle of water.

"I will forward a schedule to you before four pm." He turned and departed.


	11. Chapter 11

Saturdays were meant for sleeping in. For recovering from a hangover. For pancakes or bacon and eggs. Saturdays were never intended for a six a.m. run. Regardless, I dragged myself out of bed to my alarm and pulled on my running clothes. Phil rolled over and stretched.

"Where are you going?" He asked through a yawn.

"For a run." I sat on the edge of the bed and laced my shoes up. He popped up beside me and kissed the nape of my neck.

"Wait five minutes, I'll come with you." He offered.

"Can't. Meeting someone." I leaned over and kissed him. "I'll be an hour. Don't go."

Phil pulled me back into bed on top of him, and then rolled over and pinned me. He kissed the spot below my ear that he'd discovered made me pretty much do whatever was demanded of me.

"Stay." He murmured. I groaned and pushed him away.

"I told you last night about the crazy. Lex is the only person I've been allowed to choose, Phil. I don't want to mess it up by ditching her for our first run." I sat up and finished tying my shoes. I slipped my apartment key into my pocket and headed out to meet the good doctor in the park.

It was a beautiful morning. On any other day, I would have been thrilled to be up in it. But it was Saturday. I sat down on the bench where I'd agreed to meet Lex, and was so happy that I'd told Phil he couldn't come when she approached. Captain Rogers was with her.

"Good morning, Anna. You look doubtful." She smiled

"I forgot that today was Saturday when I agreed to meet you." I laughed. "Rookie mistake."

"This is Steve. Steve, this is Anna. She's in HR." Lex squinted in thought. "That's right, isn't it?"

I nodded as Steve shook my hand. He was super fine. Everything was big and muscle-y and strong. I felt a little tongue-tied.

"A pleasure, Anna. I've heard of you. Director Fury was very impressed with the information you had on the attack."

"Oh, uh. Yeah. Thanks." I stumbled.

"Okay, Steve, you promised you would go on your own run. She doesn't need Captain fucking America looming over her shoulder while she's running intervals." Lex smacked his butt and sent him off. I couldn't help but giggle. I liked her. She was irreverent.

"That would have been super uncomfortable. Thanks. It's bad enough I have been assigned Barton and Romanoff for part of my training." I thanked her.

"Training?" Lex looked up from tying her shoe.

"Because of the nature of the attack, as director of HR, Fury has decided that I need to have full operations agent competencies." I explained.

"Say nothing else. I totally understand. But Tasha and Clint are cool. They're very competitive with one another and like to play tricks. It can be very fun to be in on the game. And Tasha whipped me into shape really quickly with my hand-to-hand. She's incredible. I sucked. Now I can take Steve down, if I take him by surprise." She reassured me. "Well, sort of. There's more than Romanoff's training at play these days."

She looked a little haunted, but I didn't think we knew each other well enough for me to press. She ran me through some pre-run stretching, and explained the mechanics of the stretches, and which muscle groups would be helped by what exercises. Then promptly told me that she would go over it again when we finished running. She started us at a pace that was slower than I usually ran. When I commented, she explained that running slower, as long as it was comfortable, would help my endurance more than running faster would. About midway through the run, she told me I needed to keep up. Until then, I had been keeping up, so I was confused, until she sprinted away from me. I ran as fast as I could to catch up. A few seconds after, she slowed down, barely winded. I was gasping for air. We returned to the slow pace again, and again, she warned me to keep up and then sprinted away from me. She did that to me around ten times, and then slowed us down to a brisk walk for the last five minutes.

"What was with the sprinting?" I asked when I caught my breath.

"High intensity intervals help improve your cardio endurance, and strengthens you faster." She explained. "If you need to be field capable, we need to whip you into shape quick. What's your sport?"

"I've studied a number of martial arts disciplines." I answered, still feeling my heart pound in my chest.

"Cool. Mine has always been running. And Archery. And I played a little hockey when I was a kid, but who doesn't?" I knew it was a rhetorical question, but I smiled nonetheless.

"Hockey was never my sport. I mean, shinny, sure. Street hockey every summer until the sun went down. But I lived in hockeyville, and just got oversaturated, I guess."

Lex shot me a look of confusion and then shrugged it off as we approached the bench we'd started from. She ran me through the stretches again, and when we were done, I sat down on the bench, exhausted.

"So how about we meet Monday, Wednesday and Fridays at this time. We'll alternate weekend days from week to week, but we'll do an evening run on those days. That leaves you Tuesday and Thursdays for something else. Weights maybe." Lex flopped down next to me. She had a strange scar on her inner arm that I hadn't noticed before.

"That looks like it was painful." I commented.

"It sucked, not gonna lie." She agreed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." I shrugged.

"You're obviously from home. Where?" She asked.

"BC. You?"

"Calgary." She replied. "There's Steve."

I looked up, and Steve was headed toward us. He looked like he was forcing himself to run at a normal pace. Which he probably was. He probably could run as fast as a car if the opportunity presented itself.

"You gals done?" He asked. I nodded. My shirt had a boob-sweat stain on it. He smiled like he hadn't noticed. He might not have. Lex was pretty stunning, and she wasn't a sweaty disgusting mess like I was.

"Got another five in you, babe?" Lex asked him. "See you Monday, Anna?"

"You bet. Thanks, Lex." I headed back toward my apartment, turning once to watch Lex and Steve disappearing down the same path I'd just run, but at a much swifter pace.

My apartment smelled like bacon when I got back. I peered into the kitchen and saw Phil dropping slices onto a piece of paper towel. I groaned. I was not going to be virtuous and eat something healthy, I was totally going to eat the bacon. And after that super hard run, I almost wanted to be virtuous.

"Stop glaring at me. It's the weekend. You're allowed bacon on the weekend." Phil didn't even look up from the pan.

"I'm going to take a shower." I grumbled, my mouth watering. I leaned into the kitchen and stole a piece of bacon from the paper towel before heading to the bathroom.

"How do you like your eggs?" He called.

"Over-easy. Unfertilized." I replied, and shut the bathroom door. I could hear him laughing as I turned the water on.

XXX

"So, how was the run?" Phil handed me a plate as I sat down at the table.

"I met your boyfriend." I teased. "So good thing I didn't let you tag along."

"Captain Rogers is your running buddy?" Phil looked confused.

"No. His girlfriend is." I dipped my toast in my egg yolk. They were perfectly cooked. Phil ate without saying anything. He slipped his hand onto mine on the table as we sat, finishing our coffee. A sharp knock on my door startled us both. He tilted his head in question.

"Expecting anyone?" He asked. I shook my head. His hand slid to his hip. I hadn't realized he was wearing his sidearm. I gave him a dirty look.

"Because you needed to wear that in my kitchen?" I asked.

"You won't be criticizing me if the person at the door is unfriendly." He shot back in a low tone. I rolled my eyes and went to the door, opening it as far as the security chain would allow. There was a guy standing there, with his back to me, in a SHIELD uniform. I cleared my throat and he spun around. My shoulders dropped once I recognized him.

"Anna Ellis?" He asked. I nodded. "Clint Barton. I'm your new range coach. Fury said I should stop by this morning and get you out on the range on account of you sucking."

"Agent Barton. Nice to meet you." I said, loudly enough that I knew Phil would hear. From the corner of my eye, I could see Phil dashing toward my bedroom, carrying his dirty plate and coffee cup. I closed the door and unlatched the chain slowly, waiting to hear the click of my bedroom door closing before I opened the front door again. I gestured to Barton to come inside, and he stepped through the door cautiously, his eyes seeking out all the possible exit points, and hiding spots for bad guys. I held my breath when his eyes lit on my bedroom door, but he just stepped past me into the kitchen.

"Can I get you a coffee?" I offered.

"Sure. We should probably have a conversation before we leave for the range." He sat down in Phil's chair. I poured a coffee and handed it to him, pointing at the cream and sugar on the table as I cleared my breakfast dishes away.

"Do you mind if I wash up while we chat?" I asked. He shook his head.

"What's your experience?" He asked.

"My week at the academy two weeks ago." I responded, scrubbing up the frying pan.

"And before that?"

"No weapons experience at all." I replied.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He exclaimed. "So you're completely green?"

"I've had a really good instructor." I shot back, defending Phil.

"And who was that? I tried to pull your training docs but there's a bunch of info redacted or missing." He asked.

"Melinda May, mostly." I lied.

"Anyone else? She was listed in there, but there was some redacted information too."

"Nope. Just May." I affirmed, feeling nervous. I finished washing up.

"Where's your sidearm. Let's get it and go over it." He stood.

"I'll grab it. It's in my bedroom." I held a hand up.

"I'm here to train you, Ellis, not seduce you." He cocked an eyebrow at me. "I can come to your bedroom without it being a problem."

"Regardless, Agent Barton, my mother raised me to not entertain men in my bedroom, so if it's all the same to you, wait here please." I shot back. "For the record, you're not my type."

"Yeah, I heard you like older guys." He was snarky. As a general rule, I liked snarky. I wasn't sure about this snarky though. "Stark seems to think –"

"Stark?" I laughed. "Also not my type."

I headed toward my bedroom quickly.

"Yeah, I was going to say. Stark seems to think you've got it bad for Thor." He laughed. I stopped partway down the hall and turned around.

"_That_ is a silly workplace crush. And means nothing." I could feel my cheeks flushing. Barton smirked, revealing a deep dimple. Damn. Were all the Avengers pretty? I turned away and stomped into my bedroom. Phil was smirking from the bed and shaking his head. My gun case was sitting beside him. He stole a quick kiss as I leaned over to grab the case.

"He's not wrong. You do like older men." He whispered. I rolled my eyes.

"I like you, Phil. That doesn't mean I'd like another guy your age just because he was your age." I whispered back. "Will you be back tonight?"

"Should be. Text me when you're free." He pulled me close for a quick kiss. I picked up the gun case and headed back to the kitchen.

"So show me what you know about this sidearm, Ellis." Barton demanded. I opened the case, and pulled it out, and went through all the parts, how to load it, how to unload it, the safety, the sights. I pointed to the holster.

"And that's my shoulder holster. I've been informed by Agent May that it's not available in pink." I finished. Barton looked me in the eye, then smirked again.

"It's a start. Put it on, grab your ammo. Let's go." He rose and put his coffee cup in the sink while I slid the shoulder holster on. I pulled on a light jacket and grabbed my purse before following him out the door.

"I'll be right back. I forgot my phone." I turned around and dashed down to my bedroom to grab my phone. I pulled my spare key off the key ring and handed it to Phil, kissing him goodbye one more time. Barton was waiting in the hall for me as I locked up.

"You know, you could have just said your boyfriend was over." He commented. My heart nearly stopped.

"What are you talking about?" I followed him down the stairs.

"You wouldn't let me into your bedroom out of some misguided notion of propriety, you conveniently forgot your phone, and you just came out with half a keychain less than you went back inside with." He said. "Not to mention the chair I sat in was warm, but your dishes were in front of your chair, your mouth is bruised like you've been getting rowdy, and his shoes were at the front door. It's okay to have a social life. I just don't get why you would need to hide it."

"Office romance. Against protocol." My response was probably too quick.

"No, relationships between you and your S.O. are against protocols. You can bounce anyone you want who has a badge as long as they aren't your supervising officer. And despite your thing for old guys, I doubt Fury is hiding in your bedroom." He corrected.

"What?"

"Well, Fury is your S.O., isn't he?" He asked.

"Yes." I felt a shudder of revulsion as I realized what he was getting at.

"My point is, I don't care who you're fucking, Ellis. As long as it doesn't compromise your ability to be available for training." Barton's tone was final. I didn't respond, but just got into the SHIELD vehicle and put my seatbelt on.

* * *

**So Winter Soldier opens on Friday and I stumbled across some spoilers tonight. And apparently my plot is going to line up well with what's happening in the MCU. So that's kinda cool...**


	12. Chapter 12

"So, Sunshine, what makes you so goddamn special that three quarters of your personnel file is redacted?" Barton asked as we walked onto the range.

"I have higher security clearance than you?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at, other than solidifying his position as the king of all snark.

"Your training files shouldn't need redaction." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, I guess you aren't as special as you think you are." I quipped back. He stopped and turned to look at me. "What?"

"I hope you're ready to work for it, Sunshine." He flipped the range lights on and gestured to a stall.

"Agent Barton, I think we would get along much better if you just stopped calling me Sunshine. My name is Ellis, or Anna, or Annie, if you're feeling really fond of me. But calling me Sunshine is just condescending. And rude. And if I weren't ready to work for it, I wouldn't have come out with you today. So if we can just start over, I think we might both wind up happier." I crossed my arms and stared at him. He met my eyes and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Done." He gestured toward the stall. "Step into my office, Ellis. I'd like to see exactly how terrible you are. Your trainer said you show hesitation and discomfort with your sidearm."

"That sounds accurate."

"What is it that makes you uncomfortable?" He asked.

"I don't know."

"Well, then, we're going to hang around and shoot until you have a breakthrough." He shrugged. He punched a button in the stall, and the target mount came rolling forward on a ceiling track. He attached a paper target, but it wasn't person shaped. "This target won't be as off-putting if it's the idea of dropping a person that's making you uncomfortable."

I appreciated it because that was part of my issue, I was just too embarrassed to say anything. I felt awkward with the sidearm. I felt uncomfortable knowing that I was wearing something that had the power to end a life. Barton leaned back and watched as I shot at the target until my clip was empty. He reeled the target in and pulled it down to look at it without saying a word. I was secretly quite pleased with it. All my shots had hit the target, and I was starting to group the shots. It was a broad group, but it was a start.

Barton put a fresh target up and sent it down to the end of the range. He gave me a signal to go ahead and shoot, and stood directly behind me, just close enough to make me nervous, but far enough away that I could see him shifting in my peripheral vision. He was a completely different teacher than Phil. Of course, Phil had been interested before he started teaching me, so he'd seen an opportunity to combine teaching and flirting. But more than that, Phil wasn't as guarded as Barton was. Where Phil was personable and easy to talk to, Barton was stiff and professional. And finally, Barton was not the least bit interested, and was maintaining a perfectly professional distance. I placed my sidearm on the counter in front of me, and waited for him to reel back the target. It was about the same. He traced his finger on the two furthest outlying holes.

"You twitch a little when you squeeze the trigger. I can see you're trying not to. I think these were your first two shots. This time you're only going to fire the first two, and we'll see if I'm right." He commented as he hung another target. When I had his signal, I fired the first two shots, and then put the gun down. He dropped the target on the counter in front of us, and pointed at the two shots.

"You're not mentally prepared until your third shot." There was no judgment, just observation.

"So how do I fix that?" I knew what he was saying was true. I was just not comfortable firing the weapon until a few shots were already gone.

"Practice. I mean, we could get into the psychology of why you hesitate, but I think most of that stuff is shit." He flipped the switch to send a fresh target down the range. "Is it alright if I touch you, Ellis?"

"Of course, if you feel it will help." I responded. He stood to my side and braced a hand under my own.

"I'll hold you steady. A successful marksman, as I'm sure you've already been told, is aware of every part of her body. It's about muscle memorization, and being inside your head enough that you know exactly when to squeeze the trigger on your exhalation." He explained.

"I thought you said you didn't buy into psychology." It was a question.

"I don't buy into fear. You've got some fear. So I need to help you eliminate that with confidence. And muscle memory, and routine. So that you don't think about how you feel, and just think about the sidearm being an extension of you." He explained and adjusted my hand a little before bracing his own hand under mine again. At his signal, I fired the weapon. He nodded, and I shot it again. I waited until he gave me the signal each time as I emptied the clip. I concentrated on how my arms felt, how my hands felt, where my shoulders were in relation to my hips and feet. It was similar theory to a lot of martial arts stances, when it was distilled down to its essence. The target floated forward, and Barton took it down and pointed at the grouping. It was better. It wasn't like I'd instantly become a sniper, but it was a noticeable improvement.

We spent a few hours working through the various issues with my shooting as he pinpointed them, and by early afternoon my stomach was growling, but my shooting was significantly improved. Barton took down my final target and nodded.

"You're a good student. You listen." It was the first compliment he'd given me.

"I don't want to waste your time, Agent Barton." I acknowledged.

"Keep this attitude, and you won't. And you'll improve enough that we can come here as colleagues instead of as student and teacher."

"I'll never be as good as you!" I laughed.

"I didn't say that." He cracked a smile. "I just meant you won't be an embarrassment."

"Well, thanks then." I couldn't help but smile, despite the backhanded nature of the comment. I'd obviously made enough of an improvement that his disposition was improving. And to be completely fair, I would have been just as unimpressed with the assignment if I was in his shoes. He drove me back to my apartment in silence. It was kind of awkward and uncomfortable, but I fought the desire to babble at him, lest I say something to give Phil away.

"Did you know your personnel file has your relationship information in it?" He suddenly spoke.

"All the SHIELD personnel files do. They have information on every aspect of every employees life in them. I've often felt they're too invasive, but considering the nature of the organization, I can understand why." I answered.

"Your relationship information is redacted." He stated.

"Like I explained before, Agent Barton, you have a lower clearance than I do." I shrugged.

"Why the hell would your relationship information need to be redacted? I mean, I could understand if your partner was in a heavy cover situation, and it would keep you safe. But your guy was hiding in your room this morning. So it's not like he's in deep cover." He puzzled. "Sorry, I just thought about that. It's strange."

"He is." I blurted. "Heavy cover, I mean. He is."

"With so little self control that he headed in for a booty call this morning?" Snarky Barton had returned. I fell silent. I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't just dig me deeper into a pile of lies, or accidentally blow Phil's secret. Barton pulled up outside my building.

"Well, uh, thanks." I wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I think we're scheduled next for Tuesday. You should be trying to visit the range every day." He looked at me, but it was more like he was looking through me, he was so intense.

"Right. See you Tuesday then." I got out of the vehicle and headed into my apartment.

XXX

I was stretched out on the couch, reading a book when I heard my front door rattling. I rolled off the couch and crept over to my bookshelf without making a sound. I pressed myself against it, waiting for the door to open against it. It would give me sufficient cover to take whoever was trying to get in by surprise. I hadn't thought to throw the chain on the door when I'd come in, and it was too late now. The door opened and stopped against the bookshelf, and without wasting time to look at who was entering my home, I stepped out behind him, gave him a quick punch to the kidneys and took him down, pinning his arms under me behind his back.

"Jesus, Annie! You gave me a key!" It was Phil. I rolled off his back and tried not to laugh. He rolled away from me and rubbed his back where I'd hit him.

"You could have texted and let me know you were coming back!" I exclaimed.

"I did, about an hour ago." He picked up the brown paper bag he'd dropped when I'd jumped him. I pulled my phone from my pocket, but there was no message waiting. I force restarted it, and checked again. No message.

"I've got nothing."

"Well, someone got my messages. We had a long conversation about wine." He laughed, and pulled out his phone. He flicked through the message back to the original one, and confirmed it had come to me, and not someone on his team. I looked down at my phone and checked the setting and number, to make sure I hadn't somehow managed to get Lex's or Barton's at some point during the day. It appeared to be my phone.

"That's creepy. This is totally my phone, and our conversation record on my phone ends with your message from yesterday." I felt a pang of warning in my belly. Phil must have had a similar response because he set his phone on the counter and grabbed my laptop. He connected the two and opened up a SHIELD window. After a few minutes, he shook his head and disconnected his phone.

"My phone is registered to an alias. The alias is still intact, so as long as whoever was messaging me was seeing the alias, it's fine."

"There have been way too many members of the Avengers Initiative hanging around me the last few days. Hand me my computer." I'd encountered three of them in the past two days. I wasn't taking any risks. I pulled up my HR files and opened Phil's personnel file. As director of HR, I could see a list of anyone who had accessed the file. It had been accessed once a week ago and then once in the past 24 hours. I keyed in the passcode to reveal the viewer. It was listed as me.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled. I hadn't viewed Phil's file. I'd been too busy with restructuring, dealing with Fury and his training schedule, deflecting Stark's weird dinner invites. "Stark. Shit. We have to get to the office, Phil." I logged out of my laptop and opened the back of my phone. There was a barely noticeable clear film dot under my battery. I pulled it off and stuck it to the inside of the handle on my freezer. Phil peeled it off, and put it back in my phone.

"It's better to not alert him that you've found it." He said as he put my phone back together. I groaned and grabbed my keys.

"Let's go. We have to find whatever bug or tracer he left in my office and destroy it." I said. Phil nodded.

"That I will agree with. We'll take Lola."

XXX

We pulled into the underground parkade and Phil parked in my spot. The elevator felt so incredibly slow on the way up to the office. I tapped my foot impatiently.

"Relax, Anna. He's had access for over 24 hours, he's been into everything he probably wants to see."

"He knows you're alive, Phil." I argued. "If he knows that, what else does he know?"

"Well, you know everything that's in those files, Anna. It isn't just payroll codes and pension information. All our personal information is tracked too." He gave me a meaningful look.

"He knows we're dating." I breathed.

"That would be my guess." He nodded. The elevator finally opened at our floor. I stomped down to my office and threw open the door, half expecting to see Stark sitting at my desk. I went immediately to my Thor bobblehead and turned him over. Stark had put him down right beside my monitor, and I was sure he had the kind of tech that would allow for Wi-Fi sneakiness. Thor was untainted though. Thankfully. I moved to the Iron Man poster he'd had mounted behind my desk. I went as far as to open the frame and take it all apart. It was also clean. I went over my monitor, and desk, but they were also free of any kind of device. Phil had started on my bookshelf, but appeared to have been distracted by the Thor scrapbook.

"I will get rid of it if it bugs you that much, Phil." I offered.

"There's new pages in here. All about Iron Man." He countered. He put the book down on my desk and flipped through the stuff Stark had added. I'd assumed he'd just written information into the book as a joke, and hadn't had time to look yet. And he must have been banking on exactly that. The pages he'd added were some sort of plastic polymer, but you could see a faint outline of circuitry printed on them. I peeled a photo he'd stuck on one of the pages off, and it was obviously there to cover the main chip in the page. There was a faint red dot on the edge of the chip. I pulled a pair of scissors from my drawer and cut through the page. It was tough, but the light flickered out when I finally managed to cut through the centre of the page. I flipped to the next page, and did the same thing.

"I don't understand why-"

"Anna, let me finish disabling this thing. You need to find out what all he's accessed." Phil held his hands out for the scissors. I sat down and logged in to my computer, and requested a listing of every file I'd accessed in the past 72 hours, just to be safe. The screen started filling with file locations. I opened a new window and accessed each file. Unsurprisingly, the first files were all the files on the Avengers Initiative. But then my file. And then Phil's alias file. And with my security clearance, it automatically redirected into Phil's file. After Phil's file, each of the members of his team. And then a number of historical files. Goddamnit. Fury was going to kill me.

Phil took the cut pages over to the shredder and started attempting to shred them. I heard the main office door open, and looked up to see Stark walking in. I couldn't warn Phil without alerting Stark. Phil glanced up and saw Stark and casually walked back to my office, and came to stand behind me. He squeezed my shoulder in reassurance.

"Annie." With just that, I could hear the chastisement in Stark's voice. "You've been keeping secrets. Phil, you look remarkable."

* * *

**So, uh. Captain America: Winter Soldier. Wow. Just... Wow. So much of it is relevant to this story, and I had NO idea. I figured this was going to get into AU territory after the film release, but I guess not really.  
~TK  
**


	13. Chapter 13

"I could have sworn you were supposed to be a genius!" I exclaimed, stomping toward Stark with murder in my heart. "Do you have any idea what kind of compromise you have caused? In light of the current situation at SHIELD?"

"In all fairness, there is a method to my madness." Stark shrugged. I resisted the urge to choke the life out of his smug fucking throat.

"Start talking because I'm feeling a little like I'd like to get in some target practice." I cocked an eyebrow.

"I guess it's a good thing I swept for bugs already then." Stark took a seat. His movements had a careless grace to them that emphasized that he really wasn't the least bit concerned that I might hurt him. Fury should have started training me years ago. I could feel the rage boiling to the surface, and clenched my jaw.

"You've read her personnel file, Stark. Do you want to risk her hitting you?" Phil prompted.

"Right. Here's the shortest, most condensed version of the story I can give you. SHIELD has been compromised. I want to know by whom. I need to know. And you need to help me." He stood as he spoke, and walked over to Phil. He poked him. Then squeezed his bicep. Then poked him again.

"Stark." It was a warning.

"It's remarkable, Phil. I can't believe it." Stark shook his head. "You look so life-like."

"Mr. Stark." I cleared my throat. "We know SHIELD is compromised. My data analysis suggests HR was specifically targeted."

"And why would anyone want that information?" Stark asked.

"You've seen how detailed those reports are. You could practically determine what toppings I'm likely to order on my pizza and how often I think about sex from them." I blurted and immediately blushed.

"Phil looks good. My guess is you think about it a lot." Stark wiggled his eyebrows at me. I sighed and dropped into my chair.

"Make your point, Stark." Phil crossed his arms and glared at Tony. Tony made his way back to the chair and with the same practiced grace, dropped back into it.

"What she said. You can determine exactly the type of person each employee is by looking at his or her personnel file. If you were a big terrorist organization, that would be pretty handy information to have. You know, if you were going to recruit within the ranks." Stark cracked the knuckles on one hand and was about to start on the other. I grabbed his hand to stop him.

"What you're saying, Tony," I was too surprised to keep up the formality, "is that anyone could be a traitor based on savvy recruiting tactics incorporating information gleaned from a personnel file."

"So it would stand to reason that –"

"That we could pinpoint who might be a traitor by scanning personnel files." I interrupted. "Can your fancy-ass AI get us in the files without using my login information?"

"JARVIS has been able to since about five minutes after I first opened any of the files." Stark nodded.

"We need to know who might be a traitor." I was thinking out loud. "We need to scan for debt, or weird past history, and –"

"And what are we going to do with this information once we have it?" Phil broke back into the conversation.

"Forward it to Fury. Let him tell us what to do next." I shrugged.

"And if Fury is compromised?" Stark asked.

"Are you kidding?" I was pretty much finished with Stark sass for the evening. "Are you abso-fucking-lutely kidding? Fury? Compromised? That would be like saying Captain Rogers doesn't know the words to the Star-Spangled Banner. If there is anything in the world I am certain about, it's that Fury is one of the good guys."

"I'm not." Phil countered. I spun to stare in surprise.

"Wha –"

"I still don't know why he saved me. I still don't know how. I know I wasn't in Tahiti. I almost know, I almost remember what happened. But Fury won't give me answers." Phil's shoulders were tense. "I don't know that he's one of the good guys."

I dropped into my chair, certainty gone. I was pretty sure that despite my on-again-off-again dislike for Tony Stark, we could trust him. He could buy half the world if he wanted to, so there was no reason for him to covertly become some terrorist superpower. And he was obnoxious enough that he wouldn't be able to lead a bunch of baddies without them trying to mutiny. I trusted Phil, ironically because he didn't talk shop despite my advanced security clearance. Well, and the sleeping together relationship thing. You don't get terribly far in relationships when you don't trust your sleepover pal. But if Phil could question Fury, then who was trustworthy? I rubbed my fingers across the bridge of my nose, trying to release the tension.

"We can't be the only three fighting this battle. I'm not even a field agent." I complained. Phil nodded.

"We need to identify allies, instead of trying to root out traitors." He agreed.

"Where do we start?" I asked. Stark spun around in his chair.

"We have the Initiative." He steepled his fingers and narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Cap's girl is probably safe. I don't think Cap's righteousness would surge for a traitor."

"Jesus, Tony, what are you, twelve?" I snapped. It was gross, but I kind of agreed. I suspected Cap had some sort of trustworthiness detector.

"I love that you use my first name when you're mad at me. Does she do that to you too, Phil?" Tony smirked. I stretched my hands and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself.

"Don't think I've made her mad yet." Phil shrugged. "Romanoff and Barton are probably safe though, I agree. Thor's off planet right now. Do you know where Banner is?"

"Yeah, I know where Bruce is." Tony was playing with his phone. Messaging someone, probably.

"You people mind telling me what the fuck is going on? On a Saturday night? In a restricted building?" Fury walked through my office door. "And why the fuck are the two of you even in the same room?"

He glared at Phil. I glared at Stark, hoping he'd admit to what he'd been up to. Remarkably, he did. In a few minutes, he'd explained everything he'd done to infiltrate SHIELD, admitted to pulling 'some' personnel files, and made it clear that I was not at fault. I suspected I was still going to get a dressing down from Fury, but it was the thought that counted.

"Sir, how would you like us to proceed?" I asked when Stark had finally finished his explanation.

"You, particularly, need this." He handed me a small leather wallet. I gave him a confused look and flipped it open. It was a SHIELD badge.

"Sir?"

"You have level one competencies on the range. Barton confirmed that this morning. You're at least a level five on your hand-to-hand, but Romanoff will assess you on Monday to ascertain how good you are. You've proven yourself more than once tactically and strategically. You will wear your sidearm at all times. You will not hesitate to drop anyone you feel is a threat to your own wellbeing, or the safety of your fellow SHIELD agents. This will not be going into your personnel file, as far as anyone who can access the system will be able to tell, you are still an overworked, underpaid HR manager." Fury explained.

"Except I'm now an overworked, underpaid HR manager who can shoot people who piss me off." I raised an eyebrow.

"As tempting as it may be, shooting Mr. Stark would be a felony." Fury smirked.

"How do we know we can trust you, Director?" Phil asked. Fury turned to face him.

"You don't. But I'll make this easy for you. Your assignment is to determine who is loyal to SHIELD. I don't want you sending me reports. Keep that between the three of you. It's up to you to decide whom you trust. But I'm not going to ask for a list of names. Watch your backs." As quickly as he'd come in, he headed back out into the night.

XXX

I curled into Phil's side and yawned. It had been a late night. After Fury had left, we'd made it clear to Stark that it was up to Phil to reveal himself to the other Avengers when he felt ready. It had taken a bit of convincing, but Stark finally got on board. The relationship between Stark and Phil wasn't as tense as I was expecting, but it's not like they stripped down to compare chest scars either. I think Stark had probably been a thorn in Phil's side too many times to make him feel really companionable, but Phil's 'death' had definitely changed Stark. I caught him staring at Phil with slack-jawed wonder a couple of times, but more surprisingly, I caught him looking on Phil with a great deal of respect. I thought that would probably come in handy at some point.

Phil wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead. If the sun streaming in my window was any indication, it was mid-morning.

"When do you have to head back to your team?" I asked, my voice rough with sleep.

"I should head back soon. We're still assigned to the cleanup. The preliminary damage report came in on Friday afternoon, and unbelievably, there's very little structural damage. Again, pointing to an inside job." He trailed his hand down my shoulder.

"I'm scared, Phil. This is not what I signed up for." I admitted. He kissed my forehead again.

"Did you really never wish to be outside of HR? Not even once?" He teased.

"Maybe." I admitted.

"A girl doesn't get a black belt in every martial art invented and not ponder life as an agent, I suppose."

"Not every martial art." I laughed and shimmied up the bed until we were face to face. I kissed him, gently. His free arm came up to my shoulder and he pushed me onto my back, and trailed kisses from my shoulder across my collarbone, and down to the valley between my breasts.

"It's normal to be scared, Annie." He spoke between placing his lips against my skin. "Even those of us who did sign up for this feel fear. Sometimes."

"Do you think we'll be moving back into the Triskelion?" I was distracted. He was distracting.

"You won't be. Fury wouldn't have spent money on that office if he intended to move you back. But they're talking about putting in new windows this week. Fixing the exterior. Then repurposing the worst damaged areas." His lips had made it to my hipbone, and his hand was rough on my thigh. He was finished soothing me with words.

"Are you going to bring your team in on this?" I gasped.

"This? Now? No. This is between you and me."

XXX

Stark wanted to meet for dinner. I did not want to meet with him on my own, and Phil had gone back to the bus, so I begged off. I was exhausted from processing all the crap that had changed so quickly in my universe, and I just wanted an enormous cup of tea, trashy television and an early night. He made me promise to meet on Monday, but I hedged on that as well. I was going to have my first training session with Romanoff, and I was nervous as hell despite Fury and Phil's reassurances. The woman was going to kick my ass across the countryside. And then, in all likelihood, back again.

I was just settling in with my tea when I heard a knock at the door. After the lecture I'd received about door safety from Phil, I peeked out the peephole. It was Erin. My stomach dropped. I wanted so desperately to tell her everything, but I didn't want to put her at risk too. I took a moment to steel my nerves and opened the door. She pushed past me.

"I went out with Matt again. What is wrong with me?"

"Did you go to a rugby game this morning?" I teased. She nodded. I laughed.

"I swear I used to know a girl who looked just like you who swore she would never settle down." I teased.

"How am I supposed to be the yin to your conventional, commitment happy yang if I'm going to Sunday morning Rugby games?" She complained from the kitchen. She was already fixing herself a cup of tea.

"That's definitely a reason to dump his ass before it gets serious." I deadpanned. "Wait, you went to a rugby game. Totally too late."

"Shut up!" She complained. "Is that a box of bullets?"

"Yeah, for my sidearm." I confirmed.

"The fuck? You have a sidearm?"

"Not that I'm particularly effective with it, but yes. I'm getting some remedial learning." I yawned. It had been a long weekend.

"I will lose my mind if I have to start taking additional training." Erin complained. Obviously Fury hadn't spoken to her yet. Well, I wasn't taking that bullet for him. He could give her the happy news himself.

"It's not so bad." I shrugged.

"It is. And it's bullshit. I think they're too worried about this attack. I'm sure it was random, and wasn't targeting us at all." She pulled the teabag out of the cup and tossed it into my composter. I kept my face neutral, but was troubled by her blasé attitude. She was going to get hurt if she didn't start taking the threat seriously. But again, I didn't want to be in the middle of an Erin shitstorm, so I was going to leave that conversation to Fury as well.

I flicked the TV over to some ridiculous comedy, which was Erin's usual cue to launch into a detailed narrative about her weekend, but even the competition between the TV and Erin's expressive way of speaking were doing nothing to keep me awake. I finally shut the TV off, and sent Erin home. I needed to be up to run in the morning, and her office was right next door to mine.


	14. Chapter 14

I would be lying completely if I said I wasn't dragging my sad, sorry ass out for my morning running date with Lex. I slowly made my way to our meeting place. Lex was waiting for me, looking far too pleased to be awake. I stifled a yawn and tried to smile.

"You look exhausted, Anna." Lex had the concern of a doctor.

"It was one helluva weekend." I admitted.

"You're sure that's all? You're so pale." She stepped closer. I waved her off.

"Really, I'm just tired." I excused. "I'm going to be pathetic, but I'm here."

"Okay. I'll push the same as I did on Saturday, but just walk if you're really dying." Lex said. We stretched and then headed out. I figured if Lex was going to treat me like it was any other day, I should probably act as though it was, and I tried to shake off the exhaustion. I truly tried. About 15 minutes into the run, I felt the fatigue drop off, almost like I was shedding a weight. My legs felt good, my muscles felt loose, and I felt awake. And energetic. I picked up my pace, and kept up with the intervals when Lex pushed. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she'd noticed because our pace increased just a little. I pushed through to the end of the run and felt amazing when we finally slowed down. I was hot, and sweaty, and tired, but it was a different tired than when I'd arrived at the park.

"You broke your wall." Lex commented as we stretched.

"Yeah, I feel good."

"Endorphins are a powerful thing." She laughed. "Seriously. Good for stress, increased energy. You'll probably have a great day."

"Well, I am in the process of rebuilding a destroyed department. Might not be the best day ever, but I certainly feel better for it right now. Thanks, Lex. I'll see you Wednesday." I headed home to get ready for work. Before I headed out the door, I packed up my gym bag for my hand-to-hand training, strapped on my sidearm, and pocketed my badge. I had a total James Bond moment as I walked down to my car. I was certainly dressed to kill, taking my new role as director to heart. I had dug out my nicest blazer and pencil skirt, and matched it with a pair of patent heels. I'd wrapped my hair in a bun, and slipped my glasses in the front of my blouse. Combined with all the new 'accessories', I really felt like I was an international woman of mystery. Not that I would give someone like Romanoff a run for her money, but I'd decided to own the sexy librarian comparison Rick had made. I almost wished I had Lola just so I could complete the utter badassery of my image. The self-satisfied smirk I wore was probably enough though.

I strode into the office, feeling confident, and surprisingly, there was nothing to bring me down. I almost expected something. I locked my purse in my desk and went to fill my coffee cup. Erin was leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, waiting for the pot to finish brewing. She was holding a ridiculous sea life pirate mug in her hand that I recalled her having at her place. It had a school of fish with pirate bandanas and an octopus with a peg-tentacle and tricorn hat on it. It was ridiculous, and silly and brought exactly the kind of levity we needed into the office.

"Settling in then?" I nodded at the mug.

"When I close my eyes, I see the eagle burned into my eyelids. It's on everything. I just needed something to make me feel like I am still me." She sighed. The coffeemaker beeped and she pulled it off the burner to pour for both of us.

"Thanks. Have you checked email this morning?" I asked.

"I have two or three urgent emails from Fury." The way she said urgent made me think she was not going to be answering them any time soon. She sighed and sipped at her coffee.

"Has he spoken to you about your new responsibilities?" I asked, trying not to give away what I knew to be Fury's expectations.

"If he thinks for one minute that I'm going to become a field agent, he's out of his goddamn mind. I joined SHIELD to use my HR degree, to put money into a 401K and not ever have to think about a different job somewhere else. I'm not about to go from safe and secure in my office to carrying a sidearm and a stupid goddamn badge." She rolled her eyes. My shoulder holster felt heavy. I wondered if my blazer was hanging funny.

"Erin, it's not really any different than taking a self-defense class. It's just paid." My coffee was still too hot to drink, and I could feel my endorphin high starting to fade. I started back toward our offices.

"Well, if you want to jump through Fury's hoops, you go right ahead. I, however, am polishing up my resume." It was unlike Erin to be quite so snarky, but truth be told, I knew where she was coming from. She wasn't well suited to the operations side of working at SHIELD. She liked a set schedule, uninterrupted vacation time, and the finer things in life. Had she discovered someone hacking encrypted data on a Saturday night, she certainly wouldn't have run into the office to find out what was going on. I had no response for her. I accepted everything that came at me in this job, usually without question. In the end, I guess I was more of a company person than she was.

My inbox was filled with angry demands for reinstatement of security clearance. I had anticipated that, and already had a form letter ready for posting in response. I selected each message and attached the letter to it before sending it. That cleared about half of my inbox. There were a few inquiries regarding death benefits, and a cryptic message from Stark that I didn't understand at all. I finally lit on the last unread message. It was from Kate's grandmother. I stood and closed my office door before opening the message.

It was short, and sad, and broke my heart. Despite only knowing Kate for the week at the academy, I'd liked her very much. And her grandmother was grieving. I picked up the phone and dialed the number that I'd pulled from Kate's personnel file. When Kate's grandmother answered, I quickly identified myself.

"Katie spoke of you after you were away at that conference. She said she was glad to have made a new friend at work."

"I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Banks." I was at a loss for words. "I just wanted to let you know I received your email, and I have flagged Kate's file. Your survivor benefit should be fast-tracked." My voice cracked as I spoke.

"Oh dearheart, that's not why I wanted you to phone me. I just wanted to tell you about something that happened to me years ago. I found a hornet's nest in the tree in my backyard. And hornets are horrible pests. They destroy everything around them, and their venom can be quite lethal. I needed to get rid of that nest. I smoked them out, dearest. I waited until they were out of the nest, and calm because of the smoke, and then I dropped a bug bomb right at the nest and killed them all. When there was no more activity, I took down the nest, and I burned it. I've never had an issue with hornet's since." She explained. I pinched the bridge of my nose in confusion. Kate's granny was dotty. I didn't recall seeing a dementia diagnosis in Kate's file, but I'd been so emotional I couldn't see straight.

"That was very brave. Hornets and wasps terrify me." I allowed.

"Well dear, sometimes we need to face the things we fear the most in order to make our homes safe. Thank you for calling me." The line went dead. I called up Kate's personnel file to make a note in it that her next of kin contact was not of sound mind. When I clicked into the cell to access Mrs. Banks' information and add the note, a deactivated personnel file opened. Cecelia Banks, retired from duty in 1983. Kate's grandmother had been a field agent. I skimmed the file quickly and saw that she had specialized in encrypted messages. I grabbed my cell and texted Phil quickly.

_Do hornets and wasps have any significant meaning in coded messages?_

_Why?_

_I just had a weird conversation with someone about how to kill hornets. I think it was a coded message._

_Try to remember everything you can about it. We'll talk over dinner. XO_

I slipped my phone into my lap as Erin knocked and entered my office. I closed Cecelia and Kate's files as Erin flopped into the chair across from me.

"Fury says until I complete my training, my clearance is pulled. This beautiful stack of folders is now all yours." She dropped a thick stack of files on the edge of my desk. I rolled my eyes. Of course it was.

"And that would be?" I prompted.

"Every outstanding Stark, and Hulk-Smash in the organization. There's about 85 there." She winked and patted the pile. I let my head drop and hit the desk.

"Thank you so much." I groaned. Erin looked far too satisfied as she left my office, annoyingly pert pirate octopus coffee mug in tow. As she breezed out, Natasha Romanoff stepped in. My stomach tightened, and I unlocked the drawer where I kept my purse and dropped the files in before locking it again.

"Agent Ellis." She offered her hand.

"It's Ms. or Director, Agent Romanoff. I'm not an agent." I corrected her and shook her hand.

"But you are. You have your badge now." Her smile was knowing. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Of course." I agreed.

"There's a training facility a few blocks from here. Did you bring something to change into? You'll stand out dressed like that." She was in a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt herself.

"I'll just go get changed now then." I grabbed my gym bag and headed to the washroom.

XXX

I landed on my back, hard. I could feel the eyes of the other agents training on us. Romanoff's knee was across my throat in seconds, and we were both breathing hard. I kicked out, arching my back and rolling us both over until I'd pinned her. Before I could properly pin her arm, she tucked it between us and used it as leverage to push me back. I scrambled away, and regained my footing, sweat dripping into my eyes. Romanoff's chest heaved as she circled around me. I sidestepped to keep an even distance between us, keeping my eye on her. She faked a punch to my left and as I dodged, swept my legs from under me. I was done. She pinned me on my stomach and I tapped out, raising both my hands from the mat in surrender.

She stepped off me, and offered me a hand up, patting my shoulder once we were face to face. I had at least an inch or two on her, and probably weighed thirty pounds more than her, although I think most of that weight would have been in my boobs. We probably wouldn't have been in the same weight division in a tournament, is what I'm trying to say. She was incredibly fast, strong and agile. I felt like a lumbering drunken moose beside her.

"You're better than the report read." She commented as she grabbed her water bottle. I pulled my own from my bag and took a long drink.

"You certainly live up to the legend, Romanoff." I complimented.

"Well, I was raised for this. What exactly is your story?" She asked.

"I grew boobs when I was 11. My dad thought I should know how to defend myself. One thing led to another." I shrugged.

"You're good. You telegraph your punches on the right." She commented.

"I do?"

"No one has ever mentioned that?" She seemed surprised.

"I don't know that anyone has ever noticed before." I had a few DVDs of tournament footage at home, I was going to have to look to see what she was talking about.

"Well, it's worth working on. I've got a pretty good idea of what I'm going to teach you now. We'll discuss it over lunch." We headed toward the change rooms.

XXX

Lunch with Romanoff was interesting. Once we were seated at the café, she insisted I call her Natasha, and dropped all the formality I had noticed in the gym. She was a genuinely pleasant person. It took me off-guard, but I wasn't stupid enough to comment on it. Instead, we enjoyed lunch, and getting to know one another better. We were equally guarded in what we shared. I was careful because we were still trying to keep Phil's continued pulse quiet. Her reserve came from years of training. She had little tells though, that made her more human. She wore a necklace with an arrow charm on it. After New York, everyone had speculated that she and Barton were close. The charm was very telling.

"I like your necklace." I commented. She smirked, not the least bit deceived by my ruse.

"I hear that a lot these days." She looked me in the eye. "It's just an arrow, Anna." There was a finality to the way she said it that warned me it wasn't something she was going to talk about. I raised an eyebrow and smiled back. It was fair. We barely knew each other. I would be disturbed if she started volunteering personal information that we both knew wasn't in a personnel file.

"Your training. I've never actually had a reason to read your personnel file, so I'm not sure about it. You said you were raised for this?" I asked, moving back to what I hoped was a less invasive topic.

"I was orphaned, and the government put me in a program as a young child to train me as an assassin. In Russia, although I think you probably knew that part." It was an abrupt answer. Fair enough. I would probably be uncomfortable talking about that kind of history as well.

"I'm sorry if that was too personal a question."

"You have clearance to read my file. It's nothing you couldn't have already seen." She shrugged.

"Dr. Richmond thinks very highly of you." I was floundering. I felt out of place and awkward and really uncomfortable, despite how easy and pleasant things felt. Almost as though the pleasantry was a façade. She finally broke a genuine smile.

"Lex is a remarkable woman. I wasn't aware you were friends." She leaned in a little.

"I would like to say we are, but we're still acquaintances, mostly. She's helping me out with the running and fitness portion of my training." I admitted.

"If anyone can teach you to run, it's Lex. If she's not already working on your strength training with you, you should ask her about that too. It's not really her area, but she's pretty damn strong." Natasha looked thoughtful. "You could probably help her with her hand-to-hand in exchange. She's not as terrible as she used to be, but she's nowhere near your ability. I work with her on occasion, but not often enough to be able to be consistent."

"I'll mention it on Wednesday. Thanks, Natasha." I'd heard that Romanoff was the most cerebral of the Initiative, and that one little off-hand comment put that into perspective. Her brain obviously never turned off. We collected our things for the short walk back to the office

"I heard you've had a couple run-ins with Stark?" She changed the subject with a wry smile.

"I wouldn't really say run-ins. Well, yeah, I guess. He was in my seminar during the attack on the Triskelion, and then he basically saved my life. And then he bugged my phone and my office." I laughed.

"I'd call those run-ins. Tony is worth having as an ally, Anna."

"I've already discovered that, and am currently overlooking what I find to be faults." I laughed. Natasha joined me, nodding.

"We all do." We were standing outside the building my office was in. I looked up and sighed.

"So, anything you want me to work before Wednesday?" I asked.

"Your shooting. Clint says you're terrible. And this is going to come easy to you, so don't sweat it."

"God, I feel like I'm the current Avengers Initiative assignment." I laughed.

"Listen, if anything feels weird or off to you, contact one of us. You've got contacts now for Clint, Tony, and me. And Lex can get Steve for you in a heartbeat. If anything at all bugs you, trust your gut and track one of us down." She leaned in and spoke quietly.

"What?" I breathed. I felt the air rush out of my lungs like I'd taken a punch in the solar plexus.

"We both know that attack was an inside job. And whoever did it intended you to die in it. Fury says he's got one of his best agents keeping an eye on you, but he won't say who, so I don't know if he can be trusted. But this isn't over, Anna, not by a long shot. So if you think you are in the least bit of danger, you let us know." She kept her voice low. "And don't forget, stop telegraphing that right." She raised her voice, and slapped my shoulder as a couple of people came out of the building.


	15. Chapter 15

Erin hadn't even gone through the stack of paperwork she had dumped on me. I was surprised, to be honest. She was usually a little more diligent when she was turning over assignments. Maybe she was as angry as she appeared. I started flipping through the reports and sorting them according to which form they were. Then I alphabetized them. Then I went back and ordered them numerically, as I realized that we'd switched from names to ID numbers. Once I had everything sorted, I started checking each ID number against the casualty list from the attack and deactivated every report that no longer needed to be assessed. It was late in the afternoon by the time I had got that far. It was boring and thankless, and I needed a break. I poked my head into Erin's office to see what she was working on.

"Hey, I'm going to run down to Starbucks for a latte. Want anything?" I asked. She looked up and smiled.

"I'll come with." She pulled her purse out and followed me out of the office. "How are those reports coming?"

"Erin, you should have told me you were so far behind on them. I could have helped you." I admonished her. A scowl flashed across her face, but just as quickly vanished. I was sure she was hoping I hadn't noticed.

"We had a lot come through while you were at the academy. I figured I'd be able to catch it up this week. Until Fury downgraded my clearance." She grumbled.

"Where have you sent your resume?" I asked. Erin stopped and gave me a look of surprise.

"Oh my god, I was just blowing off steam, Annie!" She exclaimed. "I have no intention of finding another job. I was just pissed off."

"Could have fooled me." I commented as we turned into the Starbucks. She fell silent as we stepped in line.

"Do you think I should be looking?" She suddenly asked.

"Well, you're obviously not happy. Venti non-fat London Fog please." I handed some cash to the barista, and turned back to Erin. "Maybe you _should_ be looking for somewhere safer."

"Do you think my job is in jeopardy?" Erin pressed. I accepted my change and looked at her, long and hard. I could feel myself giving the 'are you an idiot' face to her.

"Erin, if you don't follow through with what the director wants, your life may be in jeopardy. Isn't that more important than a paycheque?" I demanded. "I mean, really. I get that this is not what you signed up for, but we've entered an arena now where risk-negation is far more important than personal pride. Don't you think you're being a little childish?"

"Wow. Tell me how you really feel." She snapped as she paid for her coffee. We moved toward the pick up area. I could feel my cheeks flushing and my heart thumping in my chest.

"Okay, I will. I very nearly fucking died last week. I was a target in that attack. Everyone in our department that was at work fucking died except for me. So forgive me if I'm a little sensitive about this, but grow the fuck up. Fury is trying to keep you safe and alive as well as keep SHIELD running. If that means you need to put on a pair of runners and do five K, or take your fucking sidearm to the range and learn to defend yourself, maybe you should. Be more proactive about your personal safety. And if you really don't want to take those steps, then yes, I think you should be looking for a new job at a different agency." I retorted. The barista handed my tea across the counter. I snapped a lid on it and walked out, not waiting for Erin.

When I got back to the office, I tossed a 'do not disturb' note on the door and shut it before getting back at the stack of reports. I connected my phone to my console and put my favourite playlist on to keep the outside distractions down and then started pounding away at the pile. It shouldn't have taken Erin more than a few hours to resolve what she'd given me, and I was determined to get it done before I went home. I kept my head down and pushed through, completely losing track of time. There was a tentative knock at my door on the third repeat of the playlist. I looked up as Stark opened the door. I raised an eyebrow at him. Tentative was not in his nature.

"Hey." I looked back down at the report I was working on as he sat down across from me. He kicked his legs up and crossed his ankles on my desk.

"Your receptionist was just locking up when I arrived. She said you haven't left your office since three."

"I had a pile of crap dumped on my desk that should have been managed while I was away two weeks ago." I explained. "It's been a long day."

"But Coulson sent hugs and kisses in his text message. You should be all swoony." He teased. I groaned and opened my phone. I pulled the tracer sticker off and tossed it in the garbage, giving him a smug look.

"Stay out of my text messaging." I said, for emphasis. Stark just laughed.

"Where are we going for dinner?" He asked.

"We are going nowhere for dinner, Stark. Anna and I have an actual date. No work tonight." Phil caught Stark off guard, and Stark rocked back in the chair just enough that he lost his balance. There was some undignified limb flapping, and his feet crashed to the floor before he regained his balance.

"I know when I'm not wanted." I had to hand it to Stark; he knew how to play the wounded drama queen. He rose and walked to the door, his face a mask of exaggerated sadness. I looked at Phil and back to Stark.

"You are not wanted, Stark. However, I think we should get together tomorrow and go over what we know and what we've discovered." Phil gave Stark the bland smile that I'd learned was his business fuck-off. Stark glanced my way and seeing the set of my jaw, sighed.

"Fine. I'll bring my secret decoder ring tomorrow and we can find out who's been stealing the lightbulbs from Old Man Johnson's backdoor." He swept out of the office, leaving Phil and I in confused silence. I looked at Phil and back at the door and cracked up. Phil shook his head.

XXX

"So tell me about this coded message." Phil and I were sitting in my living room, eating Thai take-away. I took a big mouthful of noodles and chewed.

"Kate's grandma called today. She's Kate's next of kin." I started, and took a sip of my beer. "I figured she was calling about Kate's life insurance, but she wanted to tell me all about this hornet nest she had in her yard years ago. She said something about smoking it, so the hornets left it but were calm, and then setting off a bug bomb, and then burning the nest so they couldn't come back. I thought she must just have Alzheimer's or something, but when I looked in Kate's file, it showed her grandma had been a field agent."

"What's Granny's name?" Phil asked.

"Cecelia Banks." I answered. Phil choked on a mouthful of Pad Thai. I smacked him on the back and handed him his beer. He took a drink and coughed a couple times to clear his throat.

"Cecelia Banks? Jesus, she's legendary." He coughed again. "Her name is constantly being brought up at the academy. She discovered a cell of traitors in the 60s, and she wasn't sure how deep it went. So she planted false information about a project she was working on to root them out. When she knew the extent of the infiltration, she exposed the works. Basically burned the nest so there was nothing left. That was a fucking brilliant analogy. No wonder they say she was one of the best."

"How could she possibly know the importance of sharing that story with me?" I puzzled.

"You should go offer your condolences to your friend's grandmother." Phil recommended.

"That's an excellent plan. I'll see if Barton can meet me earlier tomorrow so I can drive up. She's in Philly. Think you can get away and join me?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yeah. Fury has asked me to keep an eye on you anyhow."

"I thought you were the mysterious security detail." I laughed. "Natasha was quite concerned that she didn't know who you were."

"How did that go today?" He asked. I launched into an explanation of my training time, and how incredible Natasha was. I mean, Phil knew what I was talking about, so I truly had no need to be so descriptive, but it had been an excellent session, and I could feel the ache settling into my muscles. Natasha was a tough teacher, and was going to challenge me, and I liked that. Phil leaned back on the couch and watched me as I gestured and tried to demonstrate stuff we'd done all alone. The indulgent smile, and loosened tie, combined with his completely relaxed posture and lazy grip on his beer bottle made me stop, midsentence and just look at him. I cocked my head to the side and smiled. He raised his eyebrows.

"What?" He asked. I shook my head and collected our plates and took them into the kitchen and brought us each another beer. I climbed onto the couch beside him and stretched my legs across his lap. He wrapped an arm around my knees as I leaned into his side. When I handed him the beer bottle he smirked.

"I know it's a little early in the week for a two-beer-evening, but I'm feeling a little less invincible tonight. I feel vincible. Is vincible even a word?" I asked. He laughed and kissed my forehead.

"I'm not sure." He ran his hand along my bare leg. "Is this what you wore at work today?"

"Yeah. Why?" I started pulling the pins out of my bun and fluffing my hair.

"Complete with your glasses there on your blouse all day?" He nodded toward where my glasses were tugging at the front of my blouse.

"Except when I was using them, yeah. Why?" I asked.

"I got a text earlier today asking if Librarian Dominatrix Barbie was my new girlfriend or if it was The Other One." He put air quotes around Librarian Dominatrix Barbie and The Other One. "I guess Librarian Dominatrix Barbie is my new girlfriend."

I wasn't sure if I should be offended or amused. I chose to be amused. It wasn't the first time I had been compared to Barbie. It wouldn't be the last. I could be offended every time, and point out the obvious differences: my boobs weren't that big, my waist wasn't that small, I wasn't tall enough, my panties weren't permanently molded onto my body and I was able to bend at the waist. Or I could roll with it, and let people underestimate me. It was probably to my advantage to let people underestimate me.

"So do I smack you around with a riding crop or a dictionary?" I teased.

"Well, if you have a dictionary, maybe we can look up vincible before you start hitting me." He chuckled.

"Be forewarned. All my dirty talk tonight will be in words of no fewer than four syllables." I taunted, whispering in his ear.

"I don't know if I've ever looked forward to castigation and deprivation more." He leaned across my legs and placed his beer bottle on the table, then took mine and put it beside his. He lifted my legs off his lap and slid across me, pinning me under him on the couch.

"Hey! I'm supposed to be Dominatrix Librarian Barbie. Get off!" I protested. He shook his head and smiled. I briefly considered flipping him off me, but in the end, I let him stay where he was. He was warm, and his hands were rough and it was exactly where I wanted to be after my day.

XXX

While Phil was in the shower, I sent a quick email to Erin to let her know I was going to be out of the office for the day. I clicked through the other emails and saw one from Barton in response to my message about changing our training time. I quickly responded by text message to let him know I was available until ten, and by the time I'd hit send, Erin had emailed back, demanding to know why I wasn't coming in. I opted to phone her instead.

"What the hell, Annie? You chewed me out yesterday and then locked yourself in your office for the rest of the afternoon and now you aren't coming in today?" She snarled into the phone instead of saying hello.

"One of the casualties from the attack had a dependent grandmother, and she phoned me yesterday. She wasn't making any sense. I need to go see her to find out what needs to be put in place to ensure her safety. I think she has dementia." I was not going to rise to the bait.

"And no one else can do that?" The venom was just dripping through the phone at me.

"Considering she called _me_, I thought it prudent that I check into this myself. If she has some sort of memory loss, it might help to hear my name." I hoped that made sense. I knew nothing about dementia.

"Fine, whatever. Do whatever you feel _prudent_, Madam Director." Her tone was contemptuous. It was time to rise to the bait.

"You know what? Don't bother coming in today either, Erin. You can take a day without pay for insubordination." I replied coldly.

"Fuck you. I don't answer to you. Unless Fury tells me to take the day off, I'm not staying home." The line went dead.

"That went well." I sighed.

"What was that about, princess?" An unfamiliar male voice asked from the kitchen door. I dropped the phone and whirled around. It was Barton. How he'd got in was beyond me.

"Jesus Christ, Barton!" I gasped. "You scared the shit out of me."

I prayed that Phil had heard us talking, but I could hear the shower still running. Barton looked through my cupboards for a cup and sat down to drink a coffee. I leaned against the counter, between him and the hall to the bathroom and my bedroom, hoping to somehow intercept Phil before Barton saw him.

"Hey, Annie?" Phil's voice floated down the hall. "Can you toss my shaving kit to me? I left it at the front door."

I closed my eyes and fought to keep my face calm. I knew Barton would have noticed the shoes at the door, so he would be expecting my boyfriend. But he had known Phil well, and I was left hoping he wouldn't recognize his voice. I turned to get the shaving kit from the entry, but when I moved to head down the hall, Barton blocked me, and took the bag from me. Without a word he walked down the hall and knocked on the door. I stood frozen in place where he'd left me. Phil opened the bathroom door. Barton dropped the shaving kit into Phil's hand, turned and walked back to the kitchen. He sat down and looked in his coffee cup and up at me and then back to his coffee cup.

"What's in my coffee?" He asked.

"Nothing." I answered. The look on his face made my blood run cold. Barton's eyes narrowed and he was across the kitchen and had me against the fridge in seconds.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS IN MY COFFEE?" He screamed at me. Phil was in the doorway of the kitchen in a flash, towel around his waist, sidearm drawn and trained on Barton. If I hadn't been so fucking terrified, I would have laughed. He only had half his face shaved, and the other half was still covered in shaving cream.

"Let go of Director Ellis, Barton." He ordered. Barton looked at Phil, then at me. He looked back at Phil and his face fell. His grip loosened and he slowly let go of me, without taking his eyes off Phil. I saw a tear snake down his cheek and without realizing what I was doing, I reached out and rubbed his shoulder. He pulled away from me without looking in my direction. Phil lowered his weapon and placed it on the counter beside him. Barton took two steps to cover the distance between them and reached out his hand to Phil. Phil, aware of his partial nudity, intercepted the gesture and turned it into a handshake.

"This isn't the way I would have liked to tell you, Clint, but –"

"Jesus Christ, Phil?" Barton pulled him into a bear hug. Phil looked so incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. He patted Barton's back stiffly, and then extricated himself from Barton's arms. He backed up a few steps, grabbed his sidearm and pointed at the bathroom.

"I'm just going to go get dressed. I'm sure you have questions."


	16. Chapter 16

Barton glared at me from his seat at the kitchen table. I leaned against the counter, as far from him as I could get. His speed had taken me completely unaware, which was something I was going to mention to Natasha the next time we met. That meeting was going to need to include Phil now that Barton knew. I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. It was making me nauseated. As there was no strategic reason to keep Phil's survival a secret, I was feeling resentful that this had fallen apart with me at the centre of it. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a quick text to Director Fury to fill him in. I also mentioned I was going to be out of the office. And then I turned my phone off completely. I didn't want to hear from anyone for the rest of the day.

Phil was mostly dressed when he reemerged from the bathroom. He was buttoning up his shirt as he stepped into the kitchen. I handed him a cup of coffee and excused myself.

"Would you rather stay here and answer Agent Barton's questions? I can find my own way to Philly." I offered. Phil shook his head.

"No, you two still need to get to the range. Clint has questions, but catching up can wait." He decided.

"Okay, I'll be in the bedroom." I excused myself and padded down the hallway. I prepared my things for going to the range, packed a small overnight bag in case the trip to Philadelphia took longer than anticipated, and checked out an online map to figure out where exactly we were headed. I made a few notes in my phone and then picked up a book and stretched out on the bed.

"I owe you an apology." Clint's voice brought me off the bed with a start. I dropped my book and clutched my chest.

"I'm sorry?" I wasn't completely sure what he'd said.

"No, I am sorry. I am sure my reaction was terrifying. I haven't been really," He trailed off, "my head's been kind of –" He stopped speaking again, looking for the right words.

"It's okay." I shook my head.

"It's not okay. You were trying to protect Phil. And protect me. And do your job. I haven't really been – I've been having a hard time trusting myself since New York. And subsequently, anyone else." He fumbled with the words.

"It's okay, Agent Barton." I reassured him. I wasn't sure what had happened in New York, but whatever it was had obviously messed him up.

"Yeah, I guess you've seen my file."

"I don't actually make a habit of rooting around in personnel files unless it is absolutely necessary. I don't know what happened. I don't need to know. It's okay. I accept your apology." I clarified. He looked surprised.

"But you're the director of HR." He protested.

"And until there's a Stark filed against you, I don't bother reading files. It's not my business to know." I shrugged. "Anyhow. I need to get to Philly today. Are we going to the range?"

"Yeah, Phil's going to join us. You can leave from there." He nodded.

XXX

To my delight, the work we'd done on Saturday had stuck. I was improving steadily. I was never going to be a marksman, not by any standard, but I was becoming more accurate. And more importantly, I was becoming more comfortable holding the weapon. It didn't feel as foreign in my hands, and I didn't feel as nervous handling it. While Barton worked with me, Phil stood in the furthest stall from us, practicing on his own. I may have been improving my own comfort level with the sidearm, but it became very clear that I was still wildly uncomfortable with the thought of other people using them. I flinched every time I heard Phil's weapon discharge. Barton would have been a crap instructor if he hadn't noticed. He beckoned Phil back toward us and asked him to set up in the stall beside us. And then he made me shoot while Phil was shooting. And wouldn't hear my complaints.

"Honestly, Ellis, do you think everyone is going to stop shooting so you can concentrate during a firefight? Focus on your shit." He snapped. He went as far as to taking my hearing protection away so I could hear how loud the guns really were. I glared and snatched at the muffs. He gave me this look that was part contempt and part amusement. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the target. I could focus. I knew all the different ways to achieve focus. I had learned to block the sound of a tournament from my mind when I was 13 years old. Essentially, I told myself, this was the same thing.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. I held it for just a moment and slowly let it back out, centering myself. I felt each foot connect with the ground, through my shoes, and I lengthened my spine, straightening my posture. Rolling my shoulders back and relaxing, I opened my eyes, and raised my weapon at the target, hearing nothing around me. I sighted, and shot. Sighted and shot. Sighted and shot until my clip was empty. After placing the gun on the counter in front of me, I hit the button to reel the target toward me. It was unbelievable. Barton yanked down the target before I could get a good look at it, but I knew it was the best I had ever shot.

"How did you do that?" He demanded. I held out my hand for the target and he handed it to me. Every single shot had gone through the ring at the heart.

"You said I needed to be able to focus. I focused." I didn't know how else to respond. Phil peered around the corner and raised an eyebrow at my target.

"It's probably the martial arts training, Clint." He offered.

"Do it again." Barton hung another target. "Aim for the head this time."

I stretched my back a little and put a fresh clip in my sidearm, and then went through the steps to gain my focus again. I aimed at the head and emptied my clip. Again, it was an incredible improvement.

"So you've got this part down. Now you need to figure out how to do that without needing two minutes of breathing exercises to block everything around you. You won't ever have two minutes. You might not even have two seconds." Barton mixed his praise into a heaping pile of criticism. He was a realist. I could respect that. Even if I did want one shining moment of brilliance, unmarred by the critique of my weaknesses.

"Thanks, Agent Barton." I smiled despite myself.

"You know, you could probably call me Clint." He allowed. I smiled all the way to the car.

XXX

I'd only ever driven through Philadelphia, and I was kind of disappointed that we wouldn't be sticking around, but sightseeing was not on the agenda. We drove through an older residential neighbourhood and pulled up in front of a small red brick house. The paint around the windows was peeling, but the windows were spotless, the early afternoon sun reflecting off them and preventing us from seeing the house number from the blinding brightness. The blinds were drawn against the sun, in the futile hope of preventing the front room from turning into an oven in the late afternoon. The garden was overgrown, but it looked deliberate, like someone had thrown down wildflower mix so as to not worry. The flowers were a riot of colour, garish against the dignified brickwork. There was a gabled window poking out of the roof of the house, and a large fan was secured in the window, a poor man's air conditioning. I checked the address against my notes before grabbing my purse and stepping out of the car. Phil followed, a discrete single step behind me.

I reached up to knock on the door, but it swung open against my hand. I was just about to peer inside when Phil grabbed me and pulled me back, without a word. He pointed at the door jam. It was splintered around the latch, like it had been forced. He stepped in front of me, sidearm drawn.

"Are you comfortable enough to draw your weapon? And use it if needed?" His voice was a soft murmur. I swallowed thickly and nodded, reaching into my jacket to unholster my gun. We stepped in, almost back to back. It felt like a cheesy buddy-cop crime show. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing, other than from what I may or may not have learned from watching police dramas, so I followed Phil's lead, and kept my eyes open. He checked each room off the main living room and nodded to me. We stepped further into the house, entering the kitchen. I could see the edge of an old, wrinkled hand behind the bathroom door. I darted forward, unthinking. Phil grabbed me and pulled me back, stepping in front of me to check the bathroom. He nudged the door enough to see inside, and then slipped in. I followed.

It was Cecelia Banks. And she was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Her breathing was shallow and she was grey. Not typical old-people grey, but loss-of-blood grey. I slipped my fingers across her neck to try to find her pulse. Phil was already on the phone calling an ambulance. Her pulse was weak, barely there.

"Mrs. Banks, it's Anna Ellis. We spoke yesterday on the phone. My partner has called an ambulance. You're going to be just fine." I spoke clearly, near her ear, slipping my fingers into her hand. She squeezed weakly.

"I'm not, dearheart, but I appreciate the lie." She replied weakly. "I shot one of the bastards before they ran off."

With considerable effort, she slid her arm out from under her, revealing an old Colt. Phil picked it up and slid it into his jacket.

"We don't want the cops grabbing that." He explained when I looked at him. "Did you see which direction they went?"

"No. But he bled." She coughed. I checked her for gunshot wounds, or stab wounds. She was bleeding from her side. I pulled a towel off the rack and pressed it against the wound, applying pressure.

"Is there anything else you can remember about them, Mrs. Banks?" I asked. Her eyelids were drooping, and I was scared she was going to die in my arms. I rubbed her arms to keep her warm.

"Just the bug bomb, dearheart. Remember, you need to destroy the entire nest." Her words were a whisper. Her eyes fluttered shut, and I thought she was gone. But her breathing stayed even, despite how shallow it was.

"There's more to that analogy than she's letting on. We'll search the house when the ambulance has taken her to hospital." Phil looked troubled. Mrs. Banks coughed again, and her breathing slowed. While I knew it had only been minutes, it felt like hours had passed since Phil had called the ambulance. I could hear the sirens as it approached. Phil stepped out of the bathroom to the kitchen entryway so he could direct the paramedics back to us, and then cleared away as they came charging through. I was glad he had been able to come. He gave a quick report to the paramedics, and flashed his badge to clear the cops away when they arrived, neither of which I would have been capable of doing. I was just barely holding together as it was. The paramedics applied a proper pressure bandage, and started and IV before gently lifting Mrs. Banks onto the gurney and wheeling her away. When the house emptied, I looked up at Phil and sighed, blinking back tears. He offered a hand and pulled me to my feet, and into his arms.

"Nothing quite like baptism by fire." He commented.

"We need to search this house." I couldn't think of what else to say. He just nodded, and headed back into the kitchen. Near the backdoor, he found a few drops of blood, and a hole in the wall where the bullet had passed through Mrs. Banks' attacker. He pulled on a pair of dish gloves and used a steak knife to pry the bullet out of the wall, dropping it in a plastic sandwich bag before slipping it into his pocket. I looked around the bathroom. Aside from the aftermath of the attack on Mrs. Banks, nothing was disturbed.

"Do you suppose she was trying to get in here to hide?" I asked.

"Maybe. The back door was closer to her than the bathroom though. There's a warm teacup on the kitchen table." Phil answered, feeling the cup in question. I flipped open the medicine cabinet, but there was nothing to see. I got the feeling that Cecelia Banks had come to the bathroom for a reason though. I checked the cupboard under the sink. Again, nothing. Then I saw it. In the bathtub, there was a step stool. A lot of old people needed a special chair in the bath, but not a step stool. I pulled back the shower curtain and looked into the tub. Just above the tiles, there was a drawer. It would have been hard to see from anywhere in the bathroom other than the tub, just because of the angle of it. Not really secret, but secure enough. I kicked my heels off and stepped into the bathtub, stepping up onto the stool. I reached for the drawer, but couldn't quite feel the inside of it. I jiggled the sides of the drawer until they wiggled free of the track, and pulled the drawer down carefully. I brought it out to the kitchen and placed it on the table. The first thing, on top of everything, was Mrs. Banks' SHIELD badge, the eagle just a touch different than the one on my badge. Her was issued in the 1950s though, so there was bound to be some difference. There was a notebook and a small bug bomb can. When I picked it up, it was light, and rattled. I gave Phil a puzzled look, and put the can down on the table. He picked it up and fiddled with it for a moment, but couldn't figure how to open it.

"Let's take all this with us, and get out of here before whoever did this comes back to finish their search." Phil put the can back into the drawer. He dug around under the kitchen sink and came up with a white garbage bag. We emptied the drawer into it, and I went and put the drawer back as I'd found it, removing the step stool from the tub and putting it under the kitchen table.

We gave the rest of the house a quick search, but nothing else was obvious. We stepped out into the late afternoon sun and stopped to talk to the police officers waiting in the yard. Phil turned the investigation back over to them while I put the items we'd found in the trunk of the car. I waited to get in until he approached the car.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I'm sweaty and overheated, but the car has a/c so I'll survive." I shrugged.

"I meant about finding Cecelia Banks." He clarified. I looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath.

"No."

"Let's go get you cleaned up and get something to eat, and then we'll decide whether we're driving back tonight." He drew me into his arms, not caring if the cops saw. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and breathed in the tang of his scent, musky and masculine with a hint of fabric softener. The man never bothered with cologne. He squeezed me close before releasing me, and opening the door of the vehicle. We'd taken a SHIELD SUV. I climbed in and buckled the seatbelt. I looked down on my lap and saw blood on my knees, soaked into the hem of my skirt and took a deep breath, fighting the wave of panic that was trying to wash over me. We were on the cusp of something huge and horrible, and nothing was ever going to be the same again.


	17. Chapter 17

I kept it together until we were in the safehouse. I fell apart in the shower. One minute I was scrubbing at my knees with a facecloth, and the next, I was curled up in the corner of the bathtub, the water streaming down me, unable to control the sobs that wracked my body. Too much was happening, and I kept getting stuck in the middle of it. I wanted to be like Erin; confident enough to have a tantrum and threaten to quit because this was totally not what I'd ever anticipated when I accepted a career at SHIELD. I had been sold a bill of goods that led me to believe I would be a desk jockey my entire career. Even the seminars had been outside my comfort zone, but I'd accepted that seminars and employee education were part of my job as a Human Resources specialist. I don't think I was ever going to be able to rationalize fieldwork, carrying a weapon and holding the dying in my lap as part of my job description.

I didn't notice that the water had run cold. I was cold, but I didn't realize it was because the water that was spraying from the showerhead was like ice. I could barely catch my breath. In the past, when I'd cried, eventually I just wore myself out and stopped, unable to continue. That was not to be the case this time. It was almost like I had found an untapped energy reserve, and every time I started to run low, I could see Cecelia Banks' head in my lap, or remember her granddaughter, or feel the blood on my knees, and I would just start again. And despite having the energy to cry like the world was ending, I lacked the ability to pull myself out of the shower.

Phil finally forced his way into the bathroom. My teeth were chattering. He pulled the shower curtain back and turned the water off, and then pulled his socks off and rolled up his pants. He stepped into the shower and sat on the edge of the tub beside where I had curled myself.

"Annie, your skin is blue."

"I can't get clean," I managed. Phil touched my back and pulled back his hand as though he had been burned.

"You are dangerously cold." He pulled his jacket off, and rolled up his sleeves. He positioned himself beside me, and reached under my back and knees and lifted me into his arms. I was so close to non-responsive that I didn't even rally to prevent him from carrying me. I allowed him to carry me to the bedroom and tuck me into the bed. He quickly stripped the rest of his clothes off and got in beside me.

"What are you –"?

"You're practically hypothermic, Annie. Christ, what were you thinking?" He asked, pulling me against his chest. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms. My hair dripped down my back and he recoiled from the shock of it. He grabbed his shirt off the floor and wrapped it around my head. It wasn't a towel, but he obviously had no intention of getting back out of the bed. He went back to rubbing my arms, and I could feel my skin tingling. With the tingling came another wave of emotion, and I took a deep breath to try to push it down. I wanted to stop crying. I really wanted it to stop.

"Who attacks a little old lady?" My words were barely more than a whisper.

"Animals. Enemies." Phil's hands stilled, and he pulled me close. His chest was so warm against my back, I finally began to relax.

"I'm so sorry, Phil," I murmured. I felt his lips on my shoulder.

"Don't." His voice was like gravel.

"What?" I was lost. My body was covered in goosebumps as I finally started to notice how cold I was. The prickling of my nerves, the overwhelming emotion; between the two, I couldn't follow my own thoughts, let alone keep up with Phil's.

"Don't apologize to me for being a decent human," he admonished me. "Close your eyes, Annie. Try to sleep. We can head home in the morning." I took another deep breath and closed my eyes, sinking into the pillow and mattress. It didn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep.

XXX

It was dark when I woke, and I was covered in goosebumps again, but this time because I had a thin sheen of sweat across my body. I was still wrapped in Phil's arms and the man was a fucking furnace. I tried to extricate myself without waking him, but my meltdown must have put him on alert because the instant I tried to shift my hips to leverage away, he awoke.

"How do you feel?" He loosened his hold on me and I squirmed to the far side of the bed.

"I'm too hot," I complained, fanning the sheets, allowing the cool air to wash across me. Phil propped himself up on one arm and shook his head.

"Anna, you are allowed to have feelings."

"I do have feelings." I was confused.

"But you're trying to put on this brave face, and you don't need to. When I ask how you're coping, I'm not asking if your body temperature is satisfactory. I'm trying to let you know you can talk to me. I don't expect you to bottle everything up just because Fury gave you a badge." His tone was stern. I tilted my head and looked at him.

"Okay. I can still feel the warmth of Cecelia's blood on my knees. Will that ever go away? I can see Kate's smile after she hooked up with Rick Eriksson, burned in my memory. Will that stop hurting? I can feel Clint Barton's hand on my throat and can't swallow for the pressure. Am I ever going to be able to trust him?" It poured out, like a dam breaking. The goosebumps came back, but not from being too hot or too cold. Phil pulled me back into his arms.

"Those things never go away, Annie. They're what make you human. You don't want them to go away." He kissed my shoulder. "As for Clint, you'll probably trust him long before you realize you do." He dropped onto his back, and I stayed close, resting my head to his chest, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. It was steady, and calming. In the darkened silence, my stomach growled, unmistakable and loud.

"Any chance we could get something delivered? What time is it?" I asked. He reached for his phone to check the time.

"It's 0430. I know a great all-night diner not far from here, and we can be on the road back before rush-hour." He kissed my forehead and climbed out of bed. I heard the shower start, and went looking for my overnight bag for my fresh clothes. I hadn't been thinking about dressing for work when I'd packed the bag. I pulled on a t-shirt and my jeans, and slipped on the flip-flops I'd brought. I found a plastic bag to put my soiled clothing in, and tucked the works back into the bag. When Phil was out of the bathroom, I stepped in to get ready, and I almost looked human by the time he was dressed. It would have to do.

XXX

I was halfway through my eggs when my phone rang. I looked down at it and cursed. It was Romanoff.

"Just checking in on you. I spoke to Lex this morning and she said you'd messaged her to let her know you weren't available for your run. Are you going to back in time for practice, or should we reschedule?" She didn't waste words on a greeting.

"Are you available this afternoon?" I asked.

"1500?"

"Perfect." It gave me enough time to get into the office and get some work done before having to run off again. "Hey, can you bring Barton? He did something yesterday that you need to teach me how to avoid."

"I can try. He's avoiding me right now," she admitted. I raised my eyebrow in Phil's direction. He nodded slowly.

"I'll message him too then." I offered.

"Sure. See you." The line went dead.

"He said he would keep his distance for a day or two until I figured out how to tell her," Phil explained.

"I guess you'll be there at 1500 too." I went back to my eggs.

Despite the long sleep I'd taken after we'd left Cecelia Banks' house, I wound up sleeping the entire drive back to D.C. Phil woke me as we pulled up to the Starbucks near my office. He leaned across the console and kissed me goodbye. It was so utterly domestic that I had to bite back an 'I love you' as I shut the door. I stopped and picked up a coffee for myself, and one for Erin as a peace offering. We'd never had a blow out like this before, and it made me uncomfortable. I didn't exactly know who to tap to give us both the 'respect in the workplace' seminar, so I wanted to resolve it before it devolved into needing that.

I headed directly to her office and was surprised to find the door closed and locked. I knocked and waited. I could hear her voice, rising and lowering, like she was arguing with someone, but it was one-sided, suggesting she was on the phone. I held the coffee up to the clear glass of the window so she could see what I wanted. The speaking ceased, and a few seconds later, the door unlocked.

"I was trying to talk some sense into Director Fury," she snapped, snatching the coffee from me.

"How's that working for you?" I asked, stepping into her office.

"Not so well," she sighed. "He's going to put me on administrative leave unless I start jumping through his fucking hoops."

"So, that leaves me with just the one question, Erin." I sat in the empty chair in front of her desk and pulled out a pretzel to share. "Are you going to jump, or are you going to cut your losses?" She sighed again and held her head in her hands, blinking slowly. When she looked up at me, her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"I've agreed to start the additional training," she admitted. "But I wanted Fury to be aware that I was lodging my displeasure. He said to check your email, by the way."

"Fair enough," I nodded. "Are we square now?"

"Nah. But we're cool," she smiled. "So where the fuck were you?"

"I had to follow up on Kate's granny. I thought she had Alzheimer's and wanted to be sure she was safe."

"And?" she pressed.

"She's going to be fine, I think," I lied. For whatever reason, my gut was telling me something was still off with Erin. I didn't like to think I had sour grapes, but considering Fury had pulled her clearance, it really wasn't her business.

I returned to my office and opened my email. I decided to start forwarding all the complaints about security clearance revocation to Fury, and it cleared my inbox considerably. I checked the email from Fury. It detailed the agreement he'd come to with Erin, and with his typical not-actually-an-apology, informed me that until she qualified for her badge, she would not be reinstated to her previous clearance. I sighed. It left all the clearance work above level three on my shoulders. I hoped she would qualify quickly. I had about ten emails from Stark, of varying levels of annoyance. Either his annoyance with me, or vice versa, I couldn't exactly tell. We'd agreed to meet before Phil and I had gone to Philadelphia, but it hadn't happened. So he was demanding a meeting as soon as possible. I quickly responded, including Phil in the conversation.

Despite my concerns about the workload being heaped on me, my morning passed slowly. I didn't have a lot on my plate at the moment, so I decided to look more closely at Cecelia Banks' personnel file. It was fascinating reading. She was just as legendary as Phil had made her out to be, dispatching an entire HYDRA cell single-handedly. She'd been good friends with the founding members of SHIELD, and had been pulled back in to consult a number of times since her retirement. Since she was close in age to Captain Rogers, it was impressive. She'd been adamantly against Kate joining SHIELD, registering a number of protests to Director Fury. Right in her file, clear as any of the other information, was a copy of a message she had sent just a few months ago, with the same hornet's nest analogy as she had used on me. I picked up my phone and called Fury.

"Sir, I'm sure you're aware Phil and I were in Philadelphia yesterday to see Cecelia Banks," I started.

"I understand she passed at the hospital," Fury informed me. My blood ran cold.

"Sir, I was looking at her personnel file. It has some recent additions to it, including a message that was very much the same as the one she gave me two days ago." I didn't know how to get all my thoughts out.

"You'd said something about hornets in your text to me yesterday," He prompted.

"Yeah. I've just sent you the message by email. It's almost identical, sir. She had figured something out. I'm not sure how. Her last paid consultation was in December of last year, but this message is from early March. Maybe Kate was helping her, I don't know. But she was convinced enough that something was going on that she gave me this exact message. And then when we got to Philly, she'd been attacked." I was rambling. "I know the police said it was a crime of opportunity, but I don't think so. I think it was a deliberate strike to silence the one person who had seen something coming."

"I don't disagree with you, Ellis," Fury said. "But as you didn't find anything to suggest she knew anything, we have nothing to go on."

"But, sir –" I started to protest, to tell him about the drawer and its contents.

"Ellis. You found nothing in her house. There was no paper trail, or record. It was all in her head. And as her personnel file suggests, she has been suffering from dementia for quite some time now. She was probably confused." Fury interrupted me with a finality in his tone that made me shut my mouth.

"I will properly deactivate her file then." I realized we were on an unencrypted line, and if Cecelia Banks was right, everything I said was being heard by whomever the enemy was.


	18. Chapter 18

The events in Philadelphia had shaken me enough that I was careful to lock my desk, log off my computer and lock my office door before I left for the gym to meet Natasha. I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and headed out into the warm afternoon sun, stopping for a coffee along the way. When I left the coffee shop, I noticed a creepy black surveillance van outside the shop. I made a mental note to let Fury know I didn't need to be followed.

I walked through the gym doors and in to pandemonium. Natasha was screaming in Russian at Clint. She had him completely backed into a corner, and while he looked pretty calm on the surface, the muscle in his jaw was ticking and there was a bead of sweat forming at his temple. I did not envy his position at all. I looked around for Phil, and couldn't see him anywhere. I stepped away from the door, but kept my distance from the two senior agents. I didn't want to get in between whatever was going to happen there. I bumped into someone coming out of a changeroom and when I glanced over to apologize, I had to bite my cheek to prevent myself from laughing. Phil was holding an ice pack to his jaw, and looked kind of dazed.

"So it went well?" I couldn't help it. I grinned.

"I was anticipating this one being bad," he admitted. I pulled the ice pack off and cringed. It was already bruising.

"Do you want some ibuprofen?" I offered. He shook his head.

"I took some before I got here," he flinched instead of smiling. "I knew it was going to be bad."

"And you!" Natasha was suddenly in my face. "You knew all along that he hadn't died?"

"I wasn't aware that he had actually died until he told me," I admitted.

"But all this time, you knew?"

"Of course," I nodded. She was so angry that she didn't realize that she was being sloppy, but as soon as she threw the punch, I was able to block it, and toss her to the ground. I bit back the feeling of triumph. She was going to come back at me. My last clear thought was that I wished I'd changed on the way to the gym, but I was grateful that women's jeans had lycra in them. After that, everything I did was instinctive.

Natasha was determined to put me on the ground, and I was blocking a furious attack, losing ground quickly. If nothing else, it was a more realistic training atmosphere. The reality was, I wasn't ever going to be attacked in a gym, in comfortable clothing. I slipped on the edge of a mat and turned my ankle, letting out a curse. I was done. Natasha took me to the ground and pressed my face into the floor. Clint and Phil pulled her off me before she could actually hurt me. I rolled onto my back, panting. She was glaring at me from a few feet away, Clint standing just to one side of her with his hand on her arm.

"Tasha, she has higher clearance than you do. You can be mad at me, and mad at Phil. Be mad at Tony, he's known for a while too. Hell, if you want to knee Fury in the balls, I'll hold him for you. But you can't be angry with her for doing her fucking job." Clint's voice was stern. She pulled away from him and stalked back toward me. I took a defensive stance, waiting for a renewed attack.

"That was easily a level 7 defense, Ellis. You respond better under pressure." She clapped me on the shoulder and stepped toward Phil. She stared at him, wordlessly, arms crossed.

"I didn't want to keep it from you, Tasha. Not after what had happened with Clint," he offered.

"Does Steve know?" She asked. Phil shook his head. "Thor?"

"Unless Sif told him, no. But I asked her not to say anything," he explained.

"Who is Sif?"

"Another Asgardian. Long story."

In a heartbeat, Natasha's demeanour softened, and I saw her eyes fill with tears. She reached out and ran her hand along Phil's jaw, down his shoulder. And then she stepped closer and drew him into a hug that mirrored the one Clint had given him. It wasn't nearly as awkward. She stepped away, and the softness was gone from her features as quickly as it had come. She turned back to me.

"There's nothing I can teach you in a gym, Anna," she acknowledged, "but we should still be sparring regularly."

"Whatever you think will help," I agreed.

"Right now, I think drinks will help." She managed a laugh, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Another time, Tasha. Annie and I have a meeting to get to," Phil excused. Natasha raised an eyebrow and huffed out a deep sigh. She took a few steps toward Clint and began muttering in Russian. His eyes narrowed in question, and then he smiled and responded quietly. She spun to face us, and there was a knowing gleam to her eyes.

"Phil, vstrechi ili nagrablennogo vyzov?" She asked. Phil flushed and refused to respond. I decided it was probably a good thing I didn't speak Russian.

XXX

Stark had us meet him at his office near the Pentagon. It was ostentatious, and harkened back to when Stark Industries was the premier arms dealer in the nation. My understanding was that Pepper Potts used the office mostly for green energy lobbying nowadays. At any rate, it was the most secure location we could think of. There was no way Tony Stark was going to allow his company to be infiltrated a second time. He was still burning with embarrassment from when Romanoff had been slipped in as his PA.

There was surprisingly little art on the walls of the office, which emphasized to me exactly how curious Stark had been about the attack on SHIELD. My guess was that every painting in the HR office that he'd 'loaned' us had some sort of listening or tracking device embedded in it. I hope he hadn't ruined that beautiful Van Gogh in my office to do it.

Stark met us in the reception area and ushered us back to a huge office overlooking the city. It was one hell of a view. In the immediate foreground was the Pentagon, and the Potomac River, which was impressive enough, but it was a clear afternoon and dark cerulean sky accented the brilliant white of the Monument on the far side of the river. Mid-river and to the west, the Triskelion rose from Roosevelt Island. From Stark's office, the damage was unnoticeable. I lingered at the window, staring at tower. It felt menacing and not for the first time in the past weeks, I was uneasy with my position.

"So what have you discovered?" Stark got right to the heart of things.

"A little old lady died to warn us about flying pests," I snapped. I immediately regretted my tone.

"What Anna is trying to say is that we were investigating and our main lead was murdered," Phil elaborated on my behalf. I turned away from the window and stalked across the room.

"And we have nothing. Except an empty wasp killer can, and some paperwork from when she was an agent." I could feel the frustration beginning to build. Phil placed a small canvas bag on Stark's desk and pulled out the items we'd confiscated from Cecelia Banks' house. Stark immediately grabbed the aerosol can and shook it. It rattled, just as it had when we were in the kitchen at Mrs. Banks' house. He fiddled with the can the same way Phil had and had no luck. He flipped it over and looked it over again and put it back on the table. I picked it up and looked at the spray top. It was one of those large cone style spray tops. I think it was supposed to allow for a larger spraying area. I looked at the nozzle and saw a bunch of little hash marks on it. Curious, I ran my fingernail across them, and the nozzle spun and clicked. Like a combination lock. I flipped open Mrs. Banks' badge and looked for the ID number, and feeling completely like I belonged in some Cold War espionage novel, clicked the nozzle around to each of the numbers on her badge. Nothing happened. I shoved both items away, dejected. Phil picked the can back up and inspected the nozzle. He started twisting the sprayer, like I had, but in a different way than I had. The bottom dropped out of the can, and a thumb drive and small notebook fell onto Stark's desk.

"Hornet. It was an alphanumeric cypher." Phil picked up the thumb drive. I reached for the notebook and flipped it open to the first page. It was filled with numbers and letter, but none of it made sense. And even though Phil had figured out the cypher for the lock on the can, he wasn't a codes guy. I flipped a few more pages, and there was a list of names.

"Do these mean anything to either of you?" I held the book out. Phil glanced at the list and then rubbed his temples.

"Those are the people she exposed. From the HYDRA cell she discovered," he explained. I flipped a couple pages further, past more random numbers and letters and came to the end of the notes.

"Without a codebreaker, we're screwed," I complained. Phil took the book and looked at it.

"Cecelia Banks wasn't an expert in encryption. This will be an easy cypher. We can probably figure it out," he wasn't talking to Tony or me, really. He was thinking aloud. He tucked the notebook into his jacket and then thought better of that, and handed it to me.

"Why –"

"I have the thumb drive. We should keep those things separate," he dropped the stick into the pocket instead. Stark flipped through the hodge-podge of detritus we'd taken from the drawer. I think we all knew each item had meaning of some sort, but it was hard to understand the relevance of partial grocery list and stick of gum. Particularly because I wasn't sure whether the dementia diagnosis in her file was real, or a ploy to get her enemies to drop their guard. Stark's phone buzzed and he checked his messages. He threw himself into his chair and responded to whatever the message was. The phone buzzed again and he made a strangled sound of disgust.

"Let me assure you, I'd rather be here playing super sleuths with you. However, I am needed back in California. Let me know if anything is going on. I can be back here in a matter of hours," Tony announced. There was concern in his eyes.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. He nodded, squaring his jaw.

"Nothing I can't resolve after five minutes in person," he admitted.

XXX

The black van was outside Stark's building when we left, and I mentioned it to Phil. He glanced across the street and took in the details before nodding at me to get into Lola. It was going to be hard to be unobtrusive in the car, but I was going try to accept that if Fury had a SHIELD detail watching me, it was for a good enough reason that I didn't want to blend in anyhow. But the van was creepy. It hung back about six or seven car lengths and pulled in to a conspicuously vacant parking spot at the end of my block that had a clear view of my front door. I wondered if they had someone on the back door of the building too. Phil pulled into the underground parking and maneuvered Lola into my spot. It was the nicest vehicle that had ever parked there, and I couldn't help but think about my poor squished car.

"You look exhausted Annie," he observed. I closed my eyes. I was exhausted. I could easily fall asleep standing, I felt so tired.

"I slept so much last night," I protested.

"The adrenaline of the last few days is draining. Particularly if you aren't used to it." He held out a hand to assist me from the car.

"You seem fine," I complained. He directed me to the stairs and herded me toward my apartment.

"I've been doing this for close to thirty years."

My apartment was just as I left it, dirty dishes in the sink and all. It was instant comfort. I flopped onto the couch and propped my feet on the coffee table. I could hear Phil rummaging in the kitchen, and the water turned on. He let it run for a while, and then there was splashing.

"You don't need to wash my dishes, babe," I called from the couch. He peered around the corner at me.

"I'm not. I'm setting your clothes to soak so the blood comes out," he explained. I rose and walked into the kitchen to observe. He had tracked down a bottle of peroxide from the bathroom and was dripping it onto the bloodstains in my blouse, letting it foam a little and then dunking it under the water. Then he would repeat the whole process until the stain was mostly lifted and move on to another one. He added a capful of peroxide to the water and swished everything around. I slid a hand along his arm as it came out of the water, and stepped closer. He turned away from the sink and brought his free arm around me. I traced my fingers along his jaw, and saying nothing, leaned into him.

"Not sure what I did to deserve someone as unreservedly good as you are, Phil," I murmured. He squeezed me and kissed the side of my head.

"Maybe like attracts like." His voice was softer and rougher than usual. There was a tightness in my chest that felt foreign. Not wrong, just very different. Again, I found myself wanting to tell him I loved him. But it was too soon, I thought, uncertainly. I leaned back in his arms to look at him. He always looked on me with a softness that made his strong features somehow warmer.

"I really like you," I blurted awkwardly. He smiled and shook his head.

"You've said that before," he reminded me.

"I like you more now," I clarified. He tipped his head and kissed me.

"I have to check in with my team. It might be a couple days before I can see you," he ran a hand through my hair. I nodded.

"I'll be fine," I reassured him.

"Just promise you'll let me know if you aren't," he pressed. I nodded. He let go of me reluctantly, and headed toward the door. As he pulled the door open he turned back to face me again.

"Annie?" He paused, "I like you more now too."


	19. Chapter 19

A hand shook me from my sleep in the middle of the night, and before I could scream, another one clapped across my mouth. The bedside lamp snapped on and I was both relieved and terrified to see Director Fury looming over me. And so incredibly relieved that I slept in pyjamas. I pried his hand off my face.

"With all due respect, Sir, what the fuck?" I hissed. He sat down on the edge of my bed, causing me to scramble up into a sitting position.

"You noticed the van following you?" He asked. I nodded. "Until McKay is able to regain her access, you are the only person in HR with level 10 clearance. You are at risk."

"Yeah, smart move," I rolled my eyes.

"I've enabled a ghost protocol for your account. If you ever suspect you are in danger, change your login by one digit. Doesn't matter which one. I'll be informed immediately," he explained. I rubbed my eyes, trying to comprehend.

"What good will it do if there's a gun to my head?" I demanded.

"You'll still have access to everything you need. Your life will not be imperiled," he promised.

"And this couldn't wait until the morning?" I yawned. He gave me no response. "I'd offer you a coffee, but this just seems so weird."

"You are going to be targeted, Ellis. Is there anything you think I should know about?"

"You said not to trust you," I began, and took a deep breath, "but if I can't trust you, I don't know who I can. We found this at Cecelia Banks' place." I reached under my pillow and pulled out the notebook, holding it out to him. He took it and began to flip through the pages.

"Anything else?" He asked, nodding as he flipped through the pages.

"Nope." It was a lie, but if Fury was not on my side, I needed to keep Phil safer than I was. "None of us could figure out the code."

"It's not commonly used anymore, but I know this one. Thank you, Ellis." He turned and walked out of my room. I had to wonder if I'd made the right move. Thanks to Cecelia Banks, I suspected that HYDRA agents had infiltrated SHIELD again, but I had no information or idea of how far. For all I knew, Fury could be setting me up. I wanted to talk to Phil. I wanted to, but I was nervous about Fury's visit. If he'd felt he couldn't message or call, that meant my phone was not secure. I didn't want to divulge anything by mentioning it to Phil. I wished I were better at cyphers, as Phil seemed to figure them out relatively quickly.

To say my sleep was unsettled for the rest of the night would have been an understatement. I tossed and turned, imagining all manner of horrible endings that could come to me. I gave up trying to get rest at around 4am, and just got up. I sent a quick text to Lex, trying to figure out our schedule for the next while, and as I was making myself a coffee, I received a rapid-fire succession of texts in response. On checking them, I had one from Natasha and one from Clint, but nothing from Lex. Natasha was confirming that she'd signed off on my hand-to-hand competencies and would be setting up follow-up assignments for me. Clint's message was to let me know he'd been called away on assignment, and expected me to continue my target practice daily.

"_Since I know you aren't tied up with H2H anymore._"

"_Any specific recommendations?_" I typed back while I sipped my coffee.

"_Get better. Get faster. Stop hesitating. If you need to use it, you need to stop your attacker, no matter the consequence._" He was basically telling me I had to be fast enough to shoot first, and accurate enough to kill with my first shot. No pressure. I finished my coffee and decided to head into the office. It was probably the safest place for me to be. No one would attack me in a SHIELD facility. It would almost be worth moving into the office until whatever was happening was over.

XXX

The office was disturbingly quiet when I walked in. It was to be expected, as it was only 6 am, but it still felt weird. I slid they key into my door look and was surprised to find it already unlocked. I knew I had locked it before I had left the office last. I was horrified to realize I had immediately reached for my sidearm before opening the door. It swung wide, and the light automatically turned on, showing the room empty. I holstered my weapon and walked in, letting out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I could hear a faint whirring noise and realized my computer was also on. I reached for the locking drawer on my desk and was relieved to find it still locked. I flicked the mouse and the screensaver vanished. The computer seemed to be uncompromised, but I called IT anyhow. I wanted the whole thing replaced before I signed in. In the meantime, I took my stack of work and carried it out into the main office. I settled in at the reception desk and started pounding through the last of the big pile of paperwork Erin had dumped on me. An hour or so later, IT showed up with a new computer, and went to work switching out mine.

"Should be all set, Director." The IT guy leaned across the reception desk and handed me a small book, "that has any troubleshooting info you might need for these new workstations."

"Is it the same as the one I had?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No, it's identical to this one you're working on though," he explained. I nodded.

Once I was sure he was gone, I turned the lock on the main office door and quickly traded computers with the reception desk. Fury had scared me, and I took literally the advice to trust no one. No one would have any reason to put any kind of tracking or keystroke-logging app onto the reception desk computer. She had always only had level one clearance. If the computers were identical, I could trust that no one would know any different if I switched them, but that I could be sure my computer was clean and safe. My stomach growled, prompting me to lock up again and head to the nearest café for a breakfast bagel or something.

I logged back into my new computer when I returned, and continued working. The office slowly came awake around me as staff trickled in. Erin popped her head in when she arrived.

"I have hand-to-hand this morning with Jackson at around ten. Is there anything on the table that you're needing me for?" She looked tired.

"There's a stack of level three clearances from Science that need to be completed, and if you could take this pile, I would love it." I pointed to a stack of internal applications for positions on the new helicarriers. I'd already sorted them according to clearance. She nodded and grabbed the folder. She turned just before she left my office.

"Oh, Agent Garrett was in yesterday looking for you. Something about that project he's on," she mentioned. I shook my head.

"I'm not sure which one that is?" I asked. She nodded and pursed her lips before gently closing my door.

"He's been working on that Centipede thing. He thinks there's a mole, and wanted to access some files. I'd been helping him out when I could, but with my restrictions in place," she trailed off.

"Gotcha. Was he going to come back, or just send a request?" I asked. She shrugged and headed back to her office. I went back to processing the internal applications. I set my phone onto the speaker dock on my bookshelf and cranked up some loud, angry music to get focused on the mountain of postings I had to get through. The new helicarrier project was due to launch in days, and the maintenance and MedBay postings had only just come down. It was another thing to mention to Fury about the HR restructuring. Job postings were going to need to come down sooner if there was only going to be two people processing applications above level four.

My desk phone rang some time later, startling me out of the groove I'd settled into.

"Ellis, HR," I answered.

"Annie, right? This is John Garrett. Honey, I was in yesterday to see Erin about some files I need to see, and she's got restricted access right now. Are you around this afternoon? I need to take a peek at a couple of personnel files for higher-level agents. I'm trying to root out a mole," he had an overly familiar way of speaking that I'm sure a lot of people found charismatic and charming. But I'd never in my life appreciated being called honey.

"I should be here until 3pm, Agent Garrett," I thought maybe being formal in my response would send a hint.

"Alright darling, I'll see you after lunch. It'll be nice to finally meet you," he positively oozed the charm. I forced myself to smile before I spoke.

"Of course. This afternoon then," I ended the conversation with a shudder. I was not looking forward to meeting him. I hit the intercom button on my phone and keyed in Erin's local. It was the epitome of laziness but I was telling myself I was multitasking.

"Yeah?" Her voice crackled across the comm.

"Did anyone go into my office yesterday while I was out?" I asked. There was something about Agent Garrett that unsettled me enough that I wondered if it hadn't been him playing with my computer.

"Not that I saw, but janitorial was in late yesterday afternoon. I left before they got to our offices." That made sense. I was probably completely overreacting. I had likely left my computer on, and janitorial had forgotten to lock back up when they left my office. I felt a flush of embarrassment wash over me, and I found myself wanting to text Phil to share my embarrassment. But then the spectre of Fury's midnight visit came back to me, and I got paranoid about contacting him again.

XXX

Garrett was just as smarmy and slippery as I'd suspected. He breezed into my office like he was the director of SHIELD, and shook my hand with that limp indifference that some men reserve for women. I had to conceal the shudder of contempt that ran the length of my spine. He made himself comfortable in the chair across from my desk and smiled while he assessed me. He didn't even try to hide that he was checking me out, either. Subconsciously, I pulled my blazer across my bust and crossed my arms. He smirked, completely aware of how I was responding to his gaze.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He asked. I forced a smile, waiting for the inevitable Barbie comparison. Men like him always made the Barbie comparison.

"I guess that's a matter of opinion, Agent Garrett." My jaw was tight, and if he was as good a judge of character as he should be in order to 'root out moles', he knew exactly how I was feeling. And it didn't change his behaviour, which meant it was intentional. In that moment, I decided I hated John Garrett.

"You don't strike me as Phil's type. His last girlfriend was brunette, petite. Real classy, plays the cello," he continued.

"Are you suggesting I'm not classy, Agent Garrett?" I raised an eyebrow. His eyes snapped up to mine, giving away that he'd been staring at my chest. He held his hands up in mock-surrender.

"No, no, Sunshine, I'm sure you're just as classy. You just –"

"Look like Dominatrix Librarian Barbie?" I asked, suddenly realizing who'd sent the text to Phil. He at least had the decency to look away, although I didn't believe for one minute that he was embarrassed.

"It's a good look," he winked, making eye contact with me again. I felt nauseated.

"Agent Garrett –"

"Please, honey, call me John," he interrupted.

"Agent Garrett," I emphasized both words, "Unless you've got a bet going with someone about how long it will take me to slap you with a Stark, I would strongly suggest you get to the point of your visit."

The cocky veneer vanished, and his grin turned cold. He sat up in the chair and leaned forward.

"I need to access some personnel files that are pertinent to my investigation of the Centipede project," he began.

"Has Erin not run you through the appropriate channels for requesting information? Fill out a P440A online for each file you wish to access. I'll process them as soon as they hit my inbox, and you can access them from whatever workstation is nearest you." I made a mental note to have a conversation with Erin before her clearance was reinstated about appropriate documentation. There was no point in having security clearance if we didn't follow through with the checks and balances that were in place. Garrett nodded abruptly and rose.

"Thank you for your time, Director Ellis. I'll be sure to get those requests to you this afternoon," he held out his hand. I stood and reached across my desk to shake his hand. It was a more appropriate and strong grip this time around. He released my hand and turned to walk out.

"Agent Garrett?" I stopped him before he left. He glanced over his shoulder. "I hope you understand that if SHIELD is to discover and deal with traitors, part of that is playing by the rules. It allows those of us who are innocent of wrongdoing to stand free of judgment, when the cards start to fall."

"I take it back, Director Ellis," He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "you are exactly Phil's type."

The way he said it made it an insult. I was left wondering if any of us should trust John Garrett.


	20. Chapter 20

"_John Garrett._" I broke my self-imposed silence with Phil after a day because I couldn't get it out of my mind.

"_Great agent. Is this supposed to be a free association game?_" Phil's response was quick.

"_He's the one who called me Dominatrix Librarian Barbie._" I pointed out. It had been bugging me since he'd left my office the previous afternoon.

"_He's not the most evolved about women. You didn't find him charming? Most women love Garrett._"

"_He seemed a little slippery._" I just wanted Phil to reassure me.

"_We trained together under Fury. He's a good guy. Specialists don't tend to have the best people skills, but he would take a bullet for any of us._"

"_If you say he's okay, I trust you._"

"_He's okay._" Two words and I felt better. Garrett rubbed me the wrong way, and I don't think I'd want to spend my free time with him, but if Phil trusted him, how could I not? I sat back and took a deep breath to clear the clouds of doubt that had been hanging over me. There was a knock on my doorjamb. Erin was waiting with a file folder.

"I've got about a third left from the pile you gave me. These new helicarrier positions have a bunch of pre-vetting coded into them, it makes assigning to successful candidate a crapshoot," she complained as she walked in. She flopped into the chair across from me and dropped the file folder on the desk.

"I know. I've had to review at least half of the ones I've worked on as well," I grumbled. Every time I thought I had the right employee chosen, I would key their info into the position and hold my breath to see if it would be accepted. There must have been an orientation or course that was required to qualify for the Insight positions.

"Do you have a minute?" Erin looked nervous.

"Sure," I nodded. She went to shut the door and sat back down.

"I owe you an apology. I've been acting like a total ass," she began. I quirked an eyebrow and tried to bite back my surprise.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to argue with you," I agreed.

"I don't expect you to. I panicked when Fury sent out that memo about the training. It set me on edge. And I," she paused for a long while, "I just, you're my best friend, and everything seems to be going so perfectly for you. I got jealous and angry."

"Oh, Erin," I didn't know what else to say. Her face had gone splotchy and red, and she looked like she was going to cry. I shoved the box of tissue toward her, and she pulled a couple pieces out, crumpling them in her hand, and then smoothing them. She laid them on her knee, almost as though she were putting them at the ready, and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I was eating dinner with Matt last night and he asked why I was so angry at you, and I couldn't think of a single reason. I don't know why I am so angry. And I'm so sorry it's been directed at you," she blurted, picking up the tissues and blotting her eyes.

"Dinner with Matt?" I couldn't help it, I was intrigued. And crying and confessions, and emotions had always made me uncomfortable. I wanted to smoothly change the topic before I wound up in tears as well.

"Yeah. Fucking Sunday morning rugby led to Tuesday afternoon sushi, and one thing led to another. I think we're dating." She blew her nose and retrieved a few more tissues.

"That's kind of awesome, Erin," I offered.

"Annie, please. I know you want to make a joke and make the drama go away. But I need to know if you and I are going to be okay. I've been an ass, and you are my best friend. I don't know what to do to make it right." The look on her face was all I needed to see. We'd been in new employee orientation together. She was my first friend at SHIELD, and I knew her better than I knew myself some days.

"Some best friend I would be if I didn't forgive you," I pointed out. Her smile was watery, and she dabbed her nose. Lucky bitch didn't ugly cry, she looked beautiful.

"So we're good?" She asked.

"I do have one concern," I admitted. "Agent Garrett didn't know that he would need to file a P440A for access to personnel files. He made it seem as though you'd always just handed info over."

Erin let out a short bark of laughter.

"John is a great agent, but he's old school, Annie. I doubt he even knows how to check his email. I always just fill the form in for him, and get him to put his password in. He'd never get anything done otherwise," she rolled her eyes. I was mollified by the answer and nodded.

"You trust him?"

"I don't trust anyone anymore," she admitted, "except you."

XXX

Once Erin and I had settled our differences, the routine in the office started to feel more natural. I was able to include her in some of the transition details, and we decided to play to one another's strengths in a different arena as well: training. Erin was a significantly better marksman than I was. And she sucked at hand-to-hand. We started slipping out of the office an hour early every afternoon to work on one or the other. By the end of the week, my shooting was consistently improved. I still needed time to focus, which Barton had said I needed to eliminate, but my targeting was so much improved that I didn't feel like a complete failure anymore. Erin's hand-to-hand was coming along slowly. She was tentative and scared she might hurt me. No matter how often I reassured her that I would be fine, she hesitated over the simplest moves.

"What if I hurt you?" She complained after one session. It was a bad session. I was feeling edgy, and she was unwilling to engage. I'd eventually lost my temper; swearing and yelling that she needed to just fucking hit me already. Even that hadn't helped her to find her nerve.

"So what if you do?" I shot back.

"I don't want –"

"Erin, you can't look at me and see me. You have to look at me and see an attacker, and forget who I am. I need to know, Fury needs to know that you're improving and able to defend yourself for at least a little while," I explained.

"I'd rather just pull my gun," she wisecracked and the tension broke.

"I'd prefer you had that as your option too, but you need this in case it isn't an option. In case someone takes you by surprise and disarms you," I admitted. She nodded.

"Okay, let's do this one more time. I'll try."

"Do or do not. There is no try."

"Thank you, Yoda," she rolled her eyes. I moved into attack position and came at her quickly. She hesitated for a moment and then blocked my punch. She attempted to sweep my legs from under me, and lost her balance, but as she went down, she very carefully and very firmly punched me in the kidney. I dropped like a ton of bricks.

"Good," I groaned.

"Oh god, Annie, I swear –"

"No, it was good. I might pee blood for a few days, but it was good." I held my hand out to her, and she leaned down to pull me to my feet. I pulled her down, and using my feet, flipped her over my shoulders onto the mat behind me. I came up onto my feet and dropped my knee into her back.

"No pity, Erin," I reminded her before letting her up. She nodded enough that I let go, and pulled her to her feet.

"Is it five yet?" She asked as she reached for her water bottle.

"Almost. Hot date?"

"Matt wants to go out to celebrate his new position," she nodded.

"He got one of those Insight positions, didn't he?"

"Ugh. Yes," she started, "some sort of computer tech position. He's going to be gone for months at a time."

I realized suddenly that Erin was actually really into him, and broke into a broad smile. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head.

"Shut up, Anna." She threw her towel at me and headed to the change room. I grabbed my things and followed, despite not being in any real hurry to get home to absolutely nothing. Phil must have been super busy because I hadn't had so much as a text since my inquiry about Garrett earlier in the week.

XXX

I wound up at the bar down the street from my place, nursing a beer and a plate of chicken wings. It had been a long few weeks, and I just didn't feel like going home to my TV on a Friday night. There was a hockey game on the TV behind the bar, and I was lost in my own world. The Caps were playing the Canucks, so I was keeping quiet, but I had my eye on the game with the quiet resignation of a Canucks' fan. I could tell just from the way they were skating that the game was already over, and the Caps had it in the bag, but I still couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face when Kesler scored. Saul, the bartender, noticed.

"They're gonna lose, Annie," he taunted.

"Seems like they always do, Saul. Doesn't make them any less my boys," I laughed.

"Well, don't say it too loud. Those guys in the back booth are pretty rowdy and have money on the Caps," he warned me.

"I can take care of myself," I assured him. He touched his finger to his nose and nodded.

"Just watch them. They don't treat the ladies too good," he reiterated. I nodded and went back to the game, and my food. Saul filled a pint glass and put it in front of me, trading it for my empty. I smiled and took a drink. I hadn't been into McGinty's since all the changes at work started, and I had forgotten how much I missed tuning out my week with wings, a beer and some hockey. I could feel my soul relaxing, if that was even possible. One of the big guys from the back booth bellied up to the bar to order another pitcher. He glanced at me, taking in my work clothes. I still had my blazer on, to conceal the shoulder holster, but I was in a tailored slate grey pantsuit. It was the favourite of my work clothes because it fit so perfectly. The drawback was that it fit so perfectly that it drew attention from unwanted quarters at times. This was one of them. The guy stepped over to me and smiled. He was already half-cut, and his eyes were hooded as he sized me up.

"This seat taken, honey?" He asked, gesturing at the stool beside me.

"Doesn't appear to be." I couldn't see the point of getting worked up about him when I knew I could handle him if needed. He sat down with his pitcher and gestured at Saul for a glass.

"What are you drinking?"

"Keith's."

"Never heard of it." He was dismissive.

"It's an export," Saul offered. The guy looked at me and curled his lip.

"Something against Bud?" He sneered.

"Not at all." I looked down at my plate and at my beer and weighed the value of sticking around and finishing while stuck with the Cro-Magnon beside me, or just leaving. Thanks in no small part to sparring with Erin, the food and beer won. I was probably going to regret that. The guy fell silent beside me, likely fuming over my choice of beers. I glanced up at the TV in time to see the Canucks score on a breakaway, and didn't quite manage to bite back my cheer of pleasure.

"The fuck is wrong with you? Drinking an import, cheering for the visiting team? You not from around here?" He raised his voice, and drew the attention of his buddies. I glanced at Saul apologetically, and he shrugged in response. My gaze flicked over to the other cavemen and to the door. I sighed heavily and took a final pull from my beer.

"Dude, I just want to finish my dinner," I began, "without causing a scene."

"Well, I wanted to get to know a pretty girl, but now I think maybe –"

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Pilot was late," Stark's arm slid around my shoulder and he kissed my cheek. It was all I could do to not shriek and shove him away.

"I," I scrambled, "was not expecting you until much later?" I played along, but was not expecting him at all. I slipped my arm around his waist and smiled benignly up at him. He leaned across me to the Cro-Magnon.

"Hi, Tony Stark. You are?" He offered his hand.

"Jerry Samson," he shook Tony's hand, "and she's yours?"

Stark's jaw ticked, just a little, and he forced a smile.

"I find ownership an offensive construct where it relates to women," he responded, and squeezed my shoulder, "but we are quite fond of one another." I forced an awkward smile. Stark picked up my beer and took a swallow before brushing his lips across my forehead. I grabbed my glass and finished it, lest he try to steal another drink. He nodded at Saul and held out his credit card.

"Cover my girl's dinner please? And a couple more rounds for the bar?" Saul nodded and took the card. "We're running late. We should get going."

"Right." I couldn't think of anything else to say, I felt so incredibly uncomfortable. I collected my purse and waited near the door as Stark squared the last of the bill away. He shook Jerry-the-Cro-Magnon's hand again and made his way back to me, lacing his fingers in mine as he came up beside me.

"Just a couple seconds more, and you can hit me," he promised. I laughed and shook my head.

"As awful as I found that whole exchange, I'm just wishing it was Phil and not you that swooped in to rescue me," I admitted.

"Let's go find some bad guys. Then you'll have a reason to track Phil down."


	21. Chapter 21

"What have you discovered this week?" Stark got right to the point once we were in his car. I tried to focus on the conversation, but I'd never been in a limo before. I wanted to push all the buttons, and stand up and hang out the sunroof, and sample from every decanter. I probably shouldn't have had the second beer. It was just enough to make it difficult for me to pay attention.

"Same-same as when we last spoke. I haven't heard from Phil, so I don't know what headway he's made with the thumb drive. I handed the notebook over to Fury. Fury is convinced there is going to be an attempt on my life. At least, that's how it felt when he decided to have a meeting with me at three in the morning," I rambled.

"So no headway?" He asked. I shook my head.

"To be fair, Tony, I do have another full-time job. And there was a shitload of positions that were posted a few weeks ago, and they needed to be closed and filled," I complained, "and when you couple that with training, and worrying, I just haven't had time for sleuthing."

"You miss him," he observed.

"That too."

"Well, here's what my snooping around dug up," he offered with a pause, "absolutely nothing."

"So why are you here?" I asked. The limo drove past my apartment and continued down the street. Stark didn't trust that my place wasn't bugged.

"Absolutely nothing, Anna. Not a single thing was out of place in any of the files I nosed around in. Nothing was amiss. In an organization like SHIELD, dedicated to ensuring the safety of a planet, and every i was dotted, every t crossed. You don't find that suspicious?" He asked. It dawned on me what he was saying.

"Nothing?"

"Not so much as a band-aid miscounted in inventory," he nodded.

"That's impossible." I knew it was impossible to keep an accurate paperclip inventory in HR, there was no way everything was clean across the entire agency.

"So what is being hidden, and how do we hack into it?" He asked.

"And is Fury involved after all?" I pondered.

"I don't think he is, or he wouldn't have encouraged us to investigate. He wouldn't have encouraged me to investigate if he had something to hide. I'm damn good. I would find every detail if Fury was dirty." Stark's hubris was outsized only by his bank account.

"Except you haven't found anything at all," I argued.

"Except evidence that something is being covered up."

"I either need more booze or to sober completely up because that almost made sense," I laughed. The limo stopped and I glanced out the window. We were in the darkened parking lot of Stark's Pentagon City building.

"When is your birthday, Anna?" He changed topics fluidly. I glanced back to him confused.

"September, why?"

"Wait here. Happy birthday," he opened the door and got out of the limo. I watched him walk across the lot and into the building. I nearly leaped out of my skin when the limo door opened; I was so focused on watching for Stark's return.

"Hey," Phil smiled and slid into the seat Tony had just been sitting in. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck. I heard him chuckle just a little.

"What are you doing here?" I wanted to tear his clothes off, but was acutely aware of the driver in the front seat.

"I can't come see you?" His lips brushed against mine, and I struggled to figure out how to get closer. Vehicular snuggling had never been my forte. He opened the door and slid out, pulling me along by the hand.

"I hate not talking to you," I commented once we were free of the car. He pulled me into his arms and silenced me with a needy, forceful kiss.

"I've been working on that thumb drive all week. We're getting nothing," he broke away from me to speak, "but I think we've made a huge discovery on the case we've been working on for months. I'm going to have to stay with that for as long as it takes. I'm hoping to wrap it up quickly. Then a night out to celebrate before we get back to this traitor and hornet's nest issue."

"How long can you be away tonight?" I knew I was pouting. I knew it was childish. I was still pouting.

"I can afford a few hours," he smiled and nodded over one shoulder. Lola was waiting for us a few feet away.

"Well then, let's not waste time." I pulled him back to me for another kiss and led him toward his car.

XXX

Our lovemaking was hurried and frantic. I snuck into the shower with him and laughed when he insisted on shampooing my hair for me, luxuriating in the feel of his fingers rubbing my scalp, and drawing the rinse water through it. He leaned into my back, drawing me into the circle of his arms, the hot water pouring down on us. I felt all the tension leave my body and felt truly relaxed for the first time in weeks.

"I wish you didn't have to go," I murmured, dropping my head to his arm. I felt the muscles of his bicep stretch as he squeezed me.

"I will be requesting vacation time when this is over." It was an invitation.

"Where are we going to go?" I teased.

"I hear the scenery is beautiful in Northern B.C." He commented.

"Home?" I was floored. He wanted to take me home. To my home. The weird sensation in my chest that I was beginning to suspect might be love was back. I turned to face him. There were bubbles from the shampoo in his chest hair, and I found myself tracing my fingers over them, watching them pop and wash away.

"I think it would be good for both of us to get away," he explained. I brushed my lips across his.

"I think that you are quickly becoming one of the best things that has happened in my world," I whispered, and reached behind him to turn off the water.

Round two was unhurried and deliberate. Phil kissed my forehead before he slipped from the bed.

"Don't get up. I've got to get back. I'll lock up," He whispered, and dropped a final kiss on my shoulder. I watched him get dressed and was drifting off to sleep when I heard him throw the bolt on my door.

XXX

I was so lonely when I awoke that it almost would have been better had Phil not shown up. Almost. But not quite. I got up and headed to the park to run with Lex. Steve was away on some sort of mission, so we went for a coffee after running and chatted about strength conditioning. Lex blew off the notion that she knew anything about strength training, and informed me she had come by her strength by accident. She did, however, know a great gym that she could set me up with.

"Is it true that you're some sort of kick-ass martial artist?" It wasn't a ninety-degree turn in the direction of the conversation, but it was enough of a change that it was a little jarring.

"I'm no Romanoff," I laughed.

"Yeah, but she's, like, the only person who can beat you." Lex cocked an eyebrow, challenging me to argue with her.

"Steve could probably kick my ass too. Agent May has proven she can as well." I was far from elite. At least, I thought I was.

"But if you were regularly using your skills?" Lex pressed.

"It'd be close between May and I. And closer than it is now between Romanoff and I," I admitted.

"So theoretically, you're better than Agent May, and as good as Romanoff?" She asked.

"Theoretically. Of course, theoretically, I could also be an astronaut, and I'm not."

"I'm going to be here for a while. I could use a consistent sparring partner." It wasn't a statement, it was a question.

"You think I can teach you something?" I was pleasantly surprised by the request. She nodded and took a long drink from her coffee.

"Probably a lot."

"Alright then, but you get to keep working with me on shaving down my running times, and help me find a way to strengthen myself up," I conceded. She held her hand out.

"Deal," she said as we shook on it.

XXX

Everything was so quiet at work, I wanted to scream. The staff was working silently at their desks; no one had their radios on. Erin was out at training. I was puzzling through the list of things we'd found in the drawer at Cecelia Banks' place. Was the shopping list pertinent to anything? Did it have any meaning other than a list of things that needed purchasing? After the relevance of the bug bomb reference, I couldn't let go of the notion that the shopping list meant something. I flicked through my phone's photos until I found it, and looked at it for what felt like the millionth time. Cecelia's handwriting was all perfect angles and curves, but her spelling was erratic. The first time I'd looked at the list, I realized she did the same thing as I did when she made a shopping list, and grouped the items according to the location in the store. The meat was together, bakery items were together, produce together, etc. This time, the items that weren't grouped appropriately stood out to me. I grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled down each item as it would be out of place in my usual grocery store. It might not be correct to her grocery store, but it was the best I could do. I wound up with five items when I was done: garbage bags, chicken soup, shrimp ring, pumpkin and 'gossip mag'. I sighed and pushed the paper away. It was no use. I hadn't had 'cyphers for super spies 101', so there was no way I was going to be able to figure the mystery out. It seemed really weird that she would put a checkout magazine on the list though, so I remained convinced that the list had some sort of meaning. I dropped my head onto my desk in frustration. There was a knock on my doorjamb. I looked up and strangled a groan at the back of my throat. It was fucking Garrett.

"I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart," he began, "and I thought I should pop in and chat with you about this case I'm on."

"You could have just told me you aren't tech-savvy, Garrett," I sighed. He sat down across from me.

"I'm not tech-savvy," he smirked, "Erin magically manages to give me the information I need."

"So what are you looking for?" I asked. He pushed a list toward me. It had a number of agent names on it, including Phil's.

"I've been working on a project for a few months and I'm just not getting anywhere. I need to see these agent files to figure out if something clicks," he offered.

"You're a level eight?" I asked. I already knew he was, I had pulled up his personnel file when he walked into my office. It was highly unsettling to have him staring at me in person and on the computer screen. I reminded myself that both Phil and Erin thought he was solid.

"The last time Erin sent approved files to me, I couldn't open them," he began. I sighed. Computer literacy should really be a requirement at SHIELD. We were virtually paperless.

"Right. So how do you prefer to do this?" I asked.

"I have a safe house across town. I've been using it as a base of operations. We could be there in thirty minutes," he sounded insecure, like he was worried I was judging him about his technological incompetence. Men. I rolled my eyes inwardly and pulled my purse from my desk.

"Let's go then." I logged off my computer, and locked up my office. Garrett leaned into Erin's office to say hello while I fiddled with the key in my door. We headed out into the afternoon sun to his vehicle, a typically non-descript SHIELD SUV. He held the passenger door open for me and shut it after I was buckled in. There were some perks to his particular brand of old-fashioned misogyny. I liked having my door held for me. He stopped at a café and picked up tall take-away cups of coffee for us. On his way back to the vehicle, he stopped at the black surveillance van that was following us and chatted with the agent on the passenger side. I could see them laughing in the side-view mirror, and Garrett patted the guy on the shoulder before heading back to the van. As he was passing the coffees in to me, the van passed us.

"What magic did you just work?" I was amazed. That van had been tailing me since before Fury's middle-of-the-night visit.

"I asked the guys to check with Director Fury to see if they needed to tail you if I had you at my safe house. It's a highly classified location, so I prefer to keep the address from the agents with lower clearance. Fury seemed to think you would be safe with me." He buckled up and turned the ignition back on. I felt a twinge of grudging respect. The van creeped me out, and he'd made it go away.

His safe house was west of the District, in Virginia, and in the late morning traffic, took a little less than the half hour he'd claimed. My coffee was just cool enough for me to drink when we pulled into the driveway. He led me into the house, and down to his office. He gestured towards the chair at the desk.

"I'm already logged in, but if you can access those files for me?" He took a sip of his coffee. I sighed.

"I'll file the requests using your account, but I'll have to log myself in to authorize your access," I explained. He nodded and sat on the couch on the far side of the room. I sat down at the computer and filed the requests for each personnel file he was looking for. I paused momentarily on Phil's, feeling protective, but silently reminded myself that my two closest friends approved of Garrett, and that Fury trusted him so much that he'd called off the security detail that had been following me. I reached for a pen to write down all the confirmation numbers, to make it easier to find the requests once I was in my own account. I pulled a piece of paper out of the printer beside the computer, and accidentally knocked over a stack of photos from the print tray. I bent over to pick them up, and Garrett jumped up to help me. I swiped them together, and saw myself on one of the photos. I picked it up and took a better look. It was Lex and I running. I bent over to pick up the rest of the photos but Garrett was bending down at my feet, gathering them. He snatched the photo from my hand and tossed them on a shelf by the couch, but not before I saw my face on at least two more photos. I looked at him questioningly.

"I had to check you out once I found out Phil was taken with you," he shrugged.

"Hardly has anything to do with this investigation though, Garrett." A sick dread roiled in my stomach.

"Right now, everyone is a suspect, honey. I need to know who I can trust." His words were mild, but his eyes had grown cold. "Those files I requested?" He prompted me when I just sat there, staring at him. I shook my head to snap back to reality and nodded. His hand was resting on his sidearm, making me increasingly nervous.

"Agent Garrett, I have a couple of questions. And I'm here, so you may as well be honest with me," I started. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"What is the real reason behind the photos?"

"Like I said –"

"No, Agent Garrett. I might not be a real agent, but I am expert in people. You have had your hand on your sidearm since I saw the photos," I licked my lips and willed myself to not reach for my own weapon.

"What do you know about Coulson's death?" Garrett demanded.

"Only what he told me," I shrugged, "It's not a big secret. He died, something happened, Fury found a way to bring him back. He doesn't even know all the details, why would I?" Garrett's hand clenched around his gun and I swallowed thickly.

"I need to see his file," Garrett ordered.

"Why?" I asked

"Get me his goddamn file, Ms. Ellis," he was cold. I felt the barrel of a gun against the back of my head, and jerked around to see who'd snuck in. It wasn't someone I'd seen before, but he was tall, black, and had terrible scarring on one side of his face, almost like he'd be burned in a fire. It looked recent. And painful.

"Call off your goon," I appealed, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Deliver the files and I will," he shrugged.

"Well, this went south quickly," I mumbled, and logged off Garrett's account. I waited for the computer to finish the sequence by avoiding making eye contact with Garrett. I tried not to think about the gun at the back of my head, instead fighting to swallow the panic rising in my chest.

"The pictures were to see if you were someone I could turn," he offered, "I need information, it's key to what I'm doing here."

"I don't see where I come into this, to be quite frank," I snapped.

"You are Human Resources right now, sweetheart. Just you. Why do you think I blew the department? I've known Fury for nearly thirty years; I knew his response would be to shut the entire place down. I wasn't counting on Erin being so stubborn, but that worked out for me, I like her and didn't want to hurt her. I don't know you, so I don't care if I have to kill you. You are the entire high clearance department. And you will get me anything I need."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I blinked and rubbed my eyes. "What is so goddamn important that you needed to kill all those people?"

"Life. The ability to restore it. To stabilize it. The Centipede project is going to make Captain America look like chump change. But we need to stabilize the subjects so they don't burn. And whatever it was that brought Coulson back is going to give us that. So I need to know what it was," he explained.

"So you just want Phil's file?" I asked.

"I've seen it a million times. But I want you to open it again. And I want you to talk," he smiled, and sat back on the couch again. I felt the renewed pressure of the gun barrel on my head and sighed. As I typed my name into the terminal, I remembered Fury's words, and keyed in my passcode wrong. I hit enter and sent a silent prayer that Phil would be able to figure things out and save me.


	22. Chapter 22

Fury hadn't lied; my access remained the same despite the incorrect password. I let out the breath I'd been holding and renewed my hope that someone would be headed in my direction shortly. I opened Phil's personnel record and pushed the keyboard away. Garrett smirked and it took all my restraint to not wipe the look off his face. He nodded at the guy with the gun, and I felt the barrel pull away from my head. I blinked away tears of relief.

"Peterson, take her down to the room and disarm her. Pull her phone, anything that she can use as a weapon," Garrett nodded toward the door. Peterson grabbed me roughly, pulling me to my feet. Before I could voice my protest, he reached into my blazer and took my sidearm, handing it to Garrett. He pulled me by the arm toward the door.

"You get that you won't get away with this, right?" I asked. Garrett shook his head and took a seat in front of the computer.

"Oh honey, in a few hours, you'll be the least of anyone's worries," he chuckled. I put my hand against the doorjamb and stopped Peterson from dragging me out of the room.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Let's just say you could be out of a job if you don't come around to the new way of thinking," he winked. Peterson tightened his grip on my arm and dragged me from the room. He pulled me down a hall to a flight of stairs that went down into a cellar. He led me down into a small, dank room and shoved me inside. He stood blocking the door. I kicked off my heels and took in everything about Peterson. He was tall, and strong. The burns looked like they might still be painful. He had a prosthetic leg, but more than that, he had some sort of implant on his forearm and I'd noticed a similar apparatus on his back. His good knee would be weak. His right eye was damaged, and I couldn't know how much he could see from it, but it meant the left eye was also a weak point.

"You don't want to try, Ellis. I could easily kill you." His voice was dead, like someone who had no hope, no humanity. I raised an eyebrow.

"You're so certain?" I questioned.

"There's clothes in that closet. Something should fit you. I need your purse, what you have on," he changed the subject and looked away. Maybe there was a little bit of humanity left in him. I handed my purse over, grudgingly, wishing I'd left Stark's fucking tracking chip in it. He stepped back through the door and shut it. I screamed in frustration and threw my shoes at the door. I rummaged through the closet and found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that looked as though they would fit. I quickly pulled them on and then sat on the floor. I needed to ground myself before I had a panic attack. I crossed my legs and closed my eyes and took a slow deep breath. I held it for a few seconds and released, and then kept at it until the bile at the back of my throat settled, and my heart rate returned to normal. Peterson stepped back in and collected my clothes wordlessly. He left again, locking the door behind him.

A rudimentary search of the room gave me nothing. There was a single bed, a closet and a night table with a lamp on it. A thin shaft of light fell across the floor from the tiniest window I'd ever seen. I didn't think a child would even fit through it. I threw myself onto the mattress, resigned to my fate. I knew Fury knew something was up with me. I just had to hope he was able to figure out what had happened. I looked up at the window again, watching the dust motes float in the shaft of sunlight. It was the afternoon, so that window must be south facing. I stood up and walked over to it, trying to see out, but I was too short, and the window itself was fairly dirty. I lifted the night table over to the window and stepped up onto it. I rubbed the sleeve of my shirt against the window, clearing some of the grime, and saw that my window faced the street. I watched for a while. The neighbourhood wasn't terribly busy. There was a car by every ten minutes or so. I got back down and lay down on the bed. They should have given me a book.

A chill ran across my skin, and I suddenly needed to use the bathroom. I knocked on the door, with enough force that I figured it would be heard almost anywhere in the house.

"I need to pee!" I yelled. I got no response. I waited a bit, straining to hear footsteps on the stairs, but I heard nothing. I banged again. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only five minute, Peterson opened the door.

"What?"

"I said I have to pee," I snapped and pushed past him. He grabbed my arm and wrenched it behind me. "I'm not kidding, I'm desperate."

"Fine." He led me up the stairs and down the hall. The bathroom was across the hall from Garrett's office, and he shoved me in, slamming the door on me. I quickly surveyed the bathroom, and found little that could help me, but I stole a toothbrush from the drawer and slipped it into my jeans. Peterson was banging on the door before I'd finishing using the toilet. I pulled the door open before I washed my hands and shrugged out of his reach in order to wash up. As soon as I turned the taps off, he pulled me out of the room and back down the hall.

"If you want me to stay quiet and not scream for the next 10 hours, you need to bring me some books," I snapped when he thrust me back into my room. He rolled his eyes and slammed the door, but was back in less than five minutes with a copy of Moby Dick. Served me right for demanding a book. I flopped down on the bed and started reading.

XXX

The lamp threw very little light across the room, and the switch for the overhead light appeared to be outside the room, so I was stuck in the dark of the room once the sun set. It sucked. I was hungry. I needed to pee again. And I desperately wanted chocolate. I decided another tantrum was in order, and right as I was raising my hand to bang on the door, it swung open. Garrett grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the room.

"I thought you might be hungry, sweetheart. I've got food upstairs," he dragged me up the stairs and cuffed me to a chair. Seriously. He obviously hadn't ever read my personnel file. I could be out of the chair in milliseconds if I wanted to, particularly considering he left one hand free so I could feed myself. I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon though; I was lightheaded from being hungry. There was a pizza in the middle of the dining room table, and Garrett handed me a plate.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Ladies first," he insisted. I rolled my eyes and took a few slices. To be deliberately obtuse, I stood up and took my chair over to the fridge. I opened it, found a beer and dragged my chair back to the table. Peterson bit back a smirk.

"The basement is cold. I'm going to need some extra blankets if you're planning on keeping me down there," I commented as I dug into my pizza, "and I usually need to pee a couple times in the night, so you should figure out a way for me to get your attention without having to scream the neighbourhood down. I need a bottle of water for the bedside, and you're going to have to figure out a way to get my prescriptions for me."

"Prescriptions?" Garrett curled his lip in disgust.

"Yeah. I take birth control, Synthroid, Prilosec, and a bunch of vitamins and supplements. If you need me to be functional, and I suspect you do or I'd already be dead, you need to get my meds for me," I took another slice of pizza and started to chew, "sooner than later with the Prilosec, by the way. I love pizza, but pizza doesn't love me."

"Christ almighty. Make me a fucking list."

"How did you not know this? It was in my personnel file," I rolled my eyes, "unless you have never looked at my personnel file?"

"I didn't need to see your file."

"You planned kidnapping me but never tried to find out anything about me?" I shook my head, "Aren't you supposed to be some fucking hotshot?"

"I'm hardly concerned with your background, Annie. I just needed your passcode." The contempt was clear in his voice. I stood, and with a quick snap of my wrist broke the back of the chair and pulled my hand free of the restraint. Peterson rose quickly, but Garrett held out his hand and Peterson stood down. Garrett was between the large glass patio door and me. I threw a kick at him, and knocked him back into the glass. Before he had a chance to recover, I kicked him again and knocked him through the glass. I jumped past him and ran out into the backyard. I pulled myself over the fence and started toward the street, hoping someone would see me if I stayed under the streetlights.

I didn't hear the car behind me, but I'm sure that's what hit me because I went down like a ton of bricks. I rolled onto my back and saw Peterson bending over me, arm cocked to punch me. And then the lights went out.

When I awoke, there was daylight streaming through the tiny window in the cellar room. My head was ringing, and when I moved and the sunlight hit my eyes, the pain was blinding, and I blinked against the pain. I rolled to the edge of the bed and puked onto the floor. A bucket slid under my face in the nick of time.

"You showed your hand too early, Annie," Garrett was sitting on a stool about a foot from the bed. He handed me a bottle of water. I rinsed and spat and lay back, pulling the pillow across my face to block out the light.

"You have no idea what's in my hand," I snapped. Or at least, I tried to. My voice was gravel from disuse. He laughed, and it was sinister and creepy and made my skin crawl.

"Sweetheart, you've got decent self-defense skills, and you suck with a gun. What else do I need to know about you?" He shook his head.

"You're right. Of course." I couldn't help the dry tone in my voice. His eyes narrowed and he just stared at me for a few minutes, without saying a word. He was getting creepier by the minute. I almost wanted to scream 'I KNEW IT!', but to whom?

"You stink, darling. Let's get you into a shower," He rose and offered a hand. I looked at the outstretched fingers, and slowly pushed myself up to sitting. I stared at the floor until my head stopped spinning, and pushed myself up. Another wave of nausea hit me, and I put my hand on the wall to stabilize myself until the rushing in my ears stopped. I made my way to the door slowly. I'm sure it made Garrett crazy that I didn't accept his help, particularly when it took me so long to climb the stairs, but I was not going to touch him. I flinched against the bright daylight when I stepped into the kitchen, and had to allow Garrett to slip his hand under my arm to stabilize me. He led me to the bathroom and stepped in with me.

"Oh, fuck no. Get the hell out," I demanded.

"And if you pass out? Hit your head? Die?" He demanded.

"Well, I guess you need to find a new HR director to kidnap," I snapped, "Oh, but you can't, can you? Because I'm the only one left with clearance. Just fuck off, Garrett. I can manage just fine without you leering at me like a dirty old man."

"You're not my type, Annie." His voice had gone icy again. "And for what it's worth, I'm younger than Phil."

He stalked out of the bathroom and locked it from the outside. I rolled my eyes, and immediately regretted it, as it sent a stabbing pain through my head. I definitely had a concussion. I wondered how long I'd been unconscious. At least overnight. I opted to run a bath, and swished some shampoo in the water to make bubbles. I stepped into the tub and sunk under the hot water and felt all my muscles relaxing. It was the closest I thought I could get to heaven and still be a prisoner somewhere. I stayed in the tub until the water grew cold, then I drained the tub and started over. When all the aches and pains seemed to be on the retreat, I drained the tub again and stood to quickly shower the soapsuds off, and shampoo my hair. The safehouse had awesome plush towels, and I slowly toweled my hair dry. I wrapped myself up in the towel and bent down to pick up my clothes. They were filthy, likely from being thrown to the street when I'd escaped.

I washed my underwear and bra in the sink and hung them over the curtain rod and then dropped the clothes I'd been given in the laundry hamper. I made sure the towel was tight around me and knocked on the door to be let out. Peterson opened the door and his good eye widened. I pushed past him and walked into the kitchen like I owned the place. I went directly to the coffee maker, and opened the cupboard above it, pulling out a cup and filling it. Then I opened the fridge and dug around until I found something to eat. Peterson had followed me into the kitchen, but had yet to say a word. There was a big screen TV mounted to the wall across from the kitchen table, and I found the remote on a lazy susan at the centre of the table. I switched it on and turned it to the news, curious if I'd been reported missing.

What I saw blew my mind.

It was live footage, and it was like déjà vu, except instead of explosions coming from inside of the Triskelion, there were helicarriers crashing into it. Fury wasn't going to have time to deal with a missing HR director.


	23. Chapter 23

At this point, it shouldn't have been the least bit surprising to me that that my coffee cup dropped and shattered into pieces. It was as though breaking coffee cups was my own special super power. But it did startle me, and Peterson also seemed pretty surprised. He obviously hadn't received the memo. I giggled to myself at the thought, and suddenly realized I was suffering some sort of shock. One of the Insight Helicarriers was taking out the top floors of the Triskelion on TV, and all I could think about was whether my super special ability to break coffee cups would get me on the Avengers. I shook my head, and the report on the TV caught my attention again.

"- The Triskelion is the headquarters of global security organization SHIELD. Until now, not much has been known about SHIELD, but we are receiving reports that everything that is stored on the SHIELD servers has just been unlocked and published online –"

My heart started pounding in my chest so hard I was surprised it didn't distract Peterson. Fortunately, he was so intent on the mess I'd made when I dropped my coffee cup that he didn't notice the TV either. But I was no longer safe. Garrett was not going to need me to access SHIELD files if they were available via Google. After my escape attempt, the patio door had been patched with a sheet of plywood. I felt a shiver run across my shoulders, and I was uncertain if it was from the cool breeze from the air conditioning or fear, but I thought it was probably fear.

I had to figure out an escape plan. If SHIELD had fallen to HYDRA, I was a liability and useless and it would only be a matter of time before I felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against the back of my head. I had to find a way out. I drew in my breath slowly, and held it for a beat before slowly letting in back out, fighting to keep the panic from overtaking me. I grabbed the TV remote and switched channels, looking for something, anything that might draw attention away from what was happening at HQ. I settled on a kid's channel that was playing a highly irritating children's learning cartoon. Peterson glanced up at the TV and then at me.

"What? I like cartoons." I lied. Peterson tossed the cup remnants into the garbage can and rolled his eyes, saying nothing. It was creepy how he said nothing. Garrett walked in and raised his eyebrows when he saw me clad only in my towel.

"This isn't a spa, Annie. Go get dressed. We need to head out," he demanded.

"Where?" I asked.

"If you're lucky, you'll live to find out."

I took a quick detour to the bathroom for my underthings and hustled my ass to the basement to find something to wear.

XXX

They cuffed me and tossed me in the back of the SUV. The cuffs were tight, and bit into the bones of my wrists painfully. I couldn't get comfortable. I finally shuffled myself to the edge of the wheel well and pushed up into a sitting position, but Peterson reached back and shoved me back down. We were heading into traffic, and despite the tinted windows, it wouldn't be hard for me to get someone's attention. In that moment, I almost wished I'd allowed Stark to give me the subcutaneous tracking device he'd threatened me with. I couldn't see a way out of this without it resulting in my death. And I wasn't quite ready for that.

I could see the shadows of vehicles passing us, and knew we must be on the freeway, but I had no idea what direction we were headed. We changed lanes sharply, and I took advantage of the swerve in the tail of the SUV to roll out of Peterson's reach. I thumped into the tailgate and was suddenly struck with an idea. All vehicles after 2002 had to have an interior trunk release, it was just a matter of me figuring out where it was. Except SUVs were exempt. My heart fell, but then my eye caught a plastic cover directly over where the trunk latch was. If I could somehow get into it, I would be able to pull the release cable. It would be a bloody fucking miracle if I were able to do that without everyone in the vehicle seeing or hearing me.

I tried to wedge my fingers under the cover, but it was tightly in place. There was significant road noise, and Garrett and Peterson were arguing about something, so I rolled onto my side and elbowed the cover near the edge. It lifted just enough that I was able to slide my fingers under the lip and pull it free. I reached in and tugged the release cable as Peterson looked back and saw me. The hatch lifted just a little, and I kicked it as hard as I could, and rolled toward the freeway, and quick moving cars. I could see Peterson's hand closing in on my shoulder and I threw myself forward as hard as I could, thinking I'd rather die being hit by a car trying to get away than at the hands of traitors.

The impact as my body hit the roadway knocked the wind out of me, and I rolled toward the oncoming traffic. The oncoming car swerved to avoid hitting me, and caused an accident in the next lane. I found my feet and scrambled to the shoulder. The SUV was still moving away from me, but Peterson was climbing into the back of it like he was going to come after me. I turned to start running, knowing it was futile, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. When I looked back one last time, he was pulling the tailgate of the SUV closed. They'd decided I wasn't worth it. Thank god. I slumped against the cement barrier on the shoulder and someone approached me.

"Hey, lady. You okay?" He leaned down to look me over. I was covered in road rash, and my hands were still cuffed in front of me. I was obviously not okay. I nodded anyhow.

"Right as rain as soon as these cuffs come off," I managed. He smiled and offered me a hand.

"My name is Jim Connors. I'm off-duty, but serve with MPDC. I thought I was going to hit you."

"I'm sorry about your car," I offered as he pulled me to my feet.

"You're alive. I got the plate from the SUV. You'll be safe now," he assured me. He turned me around, giving me a quick look-over.

"Well, I don't know about that, but thanks."

"What can you tell me about your abductors?" He had reassured himself that I wasn't going to drop dead, and had seamlessly transitioned into investigation mode. I figured since everything about SHIELD was online, I should just tell him the truth.

"The guy who took me, his name is John Garrett, he's a rogue agent of SHIELD, and –"

"SHIELD? With the helicarriers?" He interrupted.

"Yeah. He needed access to SHIELD personnel files and kidnapped me from my office. I think a few days ago?" I continued, "I'm not sure how long ago, I got knocked out at one point."

"So you're a SHIELD agent as well?" He asked.

"No, I'm a Human Resources employee," I lied. It was true enough a month ago. I wasn't going to try to explain everything that led to me being director of HR, or having agent status thrust upon me.

"So why are you so special?" He knew I was lying.

"I had the access," I shrugged. I could hear sirens approaching and sighed heavily. I was either going to be detained, or imprisoned. If I was tossed in a jail cell, I was not much better off than if I'd remained with Garrett. More alive, I suppose, but just as lost. A uniformed officer approached us and nodded at Connors.

"Can you release her cuffs?" He asked. The uniform pulled his keys out. I wanted to saint him. His keys unlocked the cuffs. I rubbed my sore wrists and looked gratefully at Connors and the uniformed officer.

"Thank you," I started.

"Anyone we can call for you? Husband, family?" Connor offered. "We can get them to meet us at the station. We'll need to ask you a few more questions."

"I don't have family here," I thought about Phil, but had no idea where he was. Barton and Romanoff would be busy with the fall of SHIELD. It left me with Erin or Stark. "My friend Erin, can I call her?"

Connors handed me his phone and I dialed Erin's cell. It rang and rang and the voicemail picked up.

"Hey Erin, it's Annie. Are you okay? I don't have a cell, but this number is the cop that helped me, I'm sure you can call back on it." I handed the phone back to Connors.

"No one else?"

"You have a data plan on that phone?" I asked. He nodded and handed it back. I googled the Stark Industries office number and called it. The receptionist was polite and while she refused to put me through to Tony, she did let me leave a voice message for him. I just hoped he would get it in a reasonable amount of time. I didn't relish the thought of being held at the police station. I wanted to get away from DC, from the flaming ruins of SHIELD, and find somewhere safe. I could see the smoke rising from the Triskelion in the distance, and shuddered.

"No luck? Let's get you to the EMTs and get you looked at, see if they want you to go to the hospital. I'll stay with you," Connors offered. I wasn't fooled. He wasn't sticking with me out of a sense of obligation; I was in police custody because of my connection to SHIELD. He led me to the ambulance that had pulled up on the scene, and sat me down on the back bumper. The EMT assessed me without any preamble or social niceties, and I appreciated it, retreating into my head for a bit. My brain was still rattled from being knocked out, and I was reeling from watching the news. Connors sat beside me, checking his messages and saying nothing. He opened a news app and I read over his shoulder while the EMT cleaned and dressed my road rash.

The US government, in a kneejerk reaction to the massive dump of information from the SHIELD network, and the second attack on the Triskelion, had named SHIELD a terrorist organization. I could hear the beep of the hear monitor speeding up as my pulse began to race. Connors raised an eyebrow and his eyes darted towards me, without his head moving.

"But you just work in HR?" He asked. I nodded and flinched away from the EMT as she swiped something cold and stingy across my eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Must have had some serious security clearance to be a target of kidnappers," he led. I shrugged.

"HR has to have high clearance given the nature of the files we work with." It had been true until the first attack.

"You sure you aren't someone important?" He pressed.

"Do I look like I criminal mastermind?" I snapped. I was wearing a pair of Georgetown sweatpants and a grey t-shirt that had seen better days before it had made its way into the closet in the safehouse. I was free of make-up, and had been beaten up and bruised before I'd rolled out of the SUV. I was counting on my appearance to make me look helpless, and allowed my shoulders to roll in, like a woman who was ashamed of her body would. Sometimes the Barbie thing worked to my advantage. It was too late to play dumb, but I could at least work the physical. Connors smiled and rubbed the small of my back in an attempt to comfort me. It did, surprisingly. I relaxed a little. The EMT finished taping steri-strips to my forehead and nodded at Connors.

"Let's get you downtown and get your statement. You can try your friends again there." His voice was gentler than it had been, and I knew my deception had worked. With any luck, I'd walk out of the police station in a few hours, free and clear.

XXX

I had answered everything I felt prudent to answer and Connors sat across from me, expectantly. I wasn't dumb enough to leave gaping holes in my tale, but I could tell from his practiced stare that he wasn't buying it anyhow.

"There's more," he prompted.

"This is where my part ends, Connors. I'm sure there is more, but I don't have any further information." I was decisive.

"You're a bit confusing."

"How so?" I was puzzled by the comment.

"You didn't seem terribly confident at the side of the freeway. But your statement has been professional, and you speak with conviction. So are you the lost and helpless HR aide, or are you something more?"

I pondered how to answer the question, and chose to put on my confused face while I thought. How he could think I was helpless after breaking my way out of the back of a moving SUV was beyond me, but it was probably to my advantage to continue to allow him to think it, particularly because I had no idea if I had continued importance to whatever was left of SHIELD or to those rising in power in HYDRA. As far as I could deduce, I had no importance whatsoever, I was just one of hundreds or thousands of low importance employees who would be looking for new jobs. But in my ten years at SHIELD, I'd learned things were rarely as they appeared. I dropped my head to the table in resignation.

"I truly don't know what else to tell you, Detective." I was starting to feel weak. I hurt all over, and it felt like every muscle in my body was starting to stiffen from the abuse it had suffered. I wanted a hot bath. I wanted a glass of whiskey. I wanted Phil to appear out of thin air and rescue me. I felt my eyes fill with tears. Was Phil even okay? He was probably in the middle of the worst of it.

"I've got no reason to hold you, Ms. Ellis. Can I offer you a ride home?" Connors sighed. I sniffed back the tears and nodded.

* * *

**Sorry for the loooong wait. I was out of town (running my first 5km race!) and have been sick with a brutal cold. Sleeping has been cutting into my writing time. This would seem to be the prudent time to let you know that gaps may be staying longer though - my maternity leave is nearly over, and I'm back to work in a month. While I suspect I'll be wrapping up this story before then, anything else will have longer breaks between chapters...  
**

**~TK**


	24. Chapter 24

It was probably stupid to go home, not knowing if Garrett was going to want me back. I couldn't see him needing me, but he was crazy enough to want to kill me, and it gave me pause. But I wanted clean clothes, and a shower, and something to eat. I wanted the comfort of my own home. I wanted to hold my passport in my hand, and know that if the world stayed completely upside down, I could escape home, into the forests of northern BC, and not worry about anyone coming after me. Of course, once again, I had no way into my apartment. Fortunately, once again, my super was a champ about letting me in. This time, however, he had more to say about my job.

"Did you even know, Annie? Sometimes the grunts don't know," he muttered.

"I had no idea, Bob." It was true. I still didn't have the details, but I'd known there was a HYDRA infiltration. But we'd never had the chance to figure out how deeply it went. Cecelia Banks was a genius.

"The grunts never know." He patted me on the shoulder and pushed my door open.

"Thanks, Bob."

"What are you going to do now?" He asked.

"Good question. I don't know," I admitted.

"You let me know if you need anything, sweetie. You're a good tenant, and good people," he rested his hand on my arm.

"Thanks, Bob." I closed my door and went directly to the bathroom. I started running the tub, hot, and full of Epsom salts and bubbles, and poured myself a full tumbler of whiskey. I stripped down and dropped my clothes in the hamper before padding back to the tub, glass in hand. I slipped under the bubbles and sighed. I wasn't able to let go of everything, but I released a fair amount of tension just letting the heat soak into me. I leaned my head against the tub surround and closed my eyes.

I must have nodded off. I heard a knock on my door, and realized my water had gone cold. I slipped out of the tub and into my bathrobe. I crept to the door as quietly as I could and peered out the peephole. There was no one there, at least, no one I could see. There was no way I was opening the door. I stepped away and went to get dressed.

I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and flopped down to turn on CNN. I wanted to know what all was going on. I kept the volume low, and heard a knock on my door again. This time I ignored it. I heard the door unlatch and open and dropped to the floor in front of my couch.

"Annie, it's Bob. I have something for you," he called. I crawled around the living room and came up behind my cracked open door. I peered through the peephole again to make sure he was alone. He was.

"Let me open the door, Bob." I shut it and unlatched the chain to pull the door open. Bob stepped in, his grey work coat pulled closed. He pulled a gun and holster out and handed it to me.

"This is my service revolver, honey. I've been glued to the TV since that first flying ship came down. You need it more than I do." He dug in his pockets and pulled out a couple of box of bullets.

"Bob, I can't –"

"Way I see it, kiddo, you have to. You're not the kind of girl to not be some kind of important. And if you aren't with the terrorists, it means they'll be looking for you. My money says you probably have some secrets tucked in your brain that someone would kill to keep quiet. Take the gun. You're from the Midwest somewhere, right?" He interrupted.

"I'm from western Canada –"

"I'm pretty sure I have your mom's address in St. Louis on your lease. I'll forward anything important to you there," he cut me off again with a wink. "You should really think about going home for a visit until this blows over."

He shuffled back out the door and disappeared down the hallway. I felt sick. He'd worked for one of the agencies for years, and if he thought I should run, he was probably right. I went to start packing. I pulled out my backpack and carefully picked the stitching out of the big maple leaf badge. I only packed a couple of days worth of clothes, as I had lost my purse in the safe house somewhere, so had only the cash that was stuffed in the mason jar in the back of my baking cupboard to get me anywhere. And considering I'd already raided it once recently, there wasn't much left. I changed into the same cargo pants and sweatshirt I'd worn the last time I'd be 'on the run', hoping for similar luck. It was a moment of weakness, but I really wanted Phil to sweep in and save the day. I wasn't usually a Disney princess, but this time I really wanted to be rescued.

I grabbed a few things that I couldn't live without, just in case I wouldn't be coming back, and tucked them away in an inner pocket in my bag. I slipped my laptop into the padded back panel and zipped it closed. I took a final look around my apartment, mentally saying goodbye to my books. Everything else was replaceable, but the books would be a loss if I couldn't return. I opened my desk to dig around for my passport, and couldn't find it. I opened the next drawer and moved the papers in it around, but it wasn't there either. I double checked the first drawer again and checked my night table. No passport. I knew it hadn't been in my purse, I'd only used to it to replace the ID that had gone up in the first attack on the Triskelion, and clearly remembered putting it back in my desk. I pulled every single item out of both drawers, but my passport was gone. The small envelope that I kept my Canadian ID in was also missing. Someone was trying to trap me in the USA.

My heart started racing again. I had about forty bucks in cash and no identification. It was going to make a border crossing difficult. I could hear voices in the hall, and what sounded like the crackle of a radio. It stopped right outside my door. I slid everything back into my desk and peered out the peephole. A couple of guys carrying guns in black tactical gear were gesturing to one another. I backed away from the door and headed to the kitchen window. I looked out, but didn't see anyone watching the window. Whoever they were, like Garrett, they were underestimating me. I slid my window open and hopped onto the fire escape. I climbed down to the alley and walked away from my building as calmly as I could. When I was sure I was clear, I sped up and didn't look back until I was on the metro on the way toward the bus station.

XXX

It was dark in New York City when I got off the bus. I'd bought the ticket for the busiest place I could think of, where I had the best chance of blending into the crowd. It wasn't until I was halfway there that I thought that I might be able to track down Tony Stark at the Avengers Tower.

I walked into the lobby of the building and approached the security desk.

"Can I help you?" The security guard was old, and his shoulders stooped forward a little. His silver hair was brushed straight back, and he had a big bushy mustache that reminded me of my granddad. I couldn't help but smile at him.

"I need to see Mr. Stark."

"It's 10:30," he put me off.

"If I know Tony, that means he should just be cranking the stereo in the lab," I nodded. If he was here, I thought. The guard raised his eyebrows and looked down at the computer screen. He typed something in.

"He would have left a name if he was expecting anyone. There's no list for tonight." He shook his head.

"If you could just call up to him?" I implored.

"If you know Mr. Stark, like you say you do, you know he doesn't like being bothered when he's working," the guard typed something else into the computer.

"I do know that," I said, "but this is kind of an emergency."

A tall redhead walked off the elevator towards us, talking on the phone.

"No, I'm telling you, this is a total mess. A building was literally destroyed by a helicarrier with one of our new proprietary engines in it, and I'm going to be doing damage control for days about why you have terrorists using your tech. So no, Tony, I am not coming back upstairs," she sounded flustered, and the hair, coupled with the conversation, made me realize she was Pepper Potts. I wanted to reach out and grab her, but she looked over and saw me standing there and stopped.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Potts, I told her –"

"Who are you?" She interrupted the security guard. Tony was still on the other end of the phone, I could see the timer on the screen counting up airtime.

"Anna Ellis." If I said it louder than I needed to, it was because I saw that the call was still live. Potts jerked her head away from the phone and glared at me.

"How do I know you're Anna Ellis?" She demanded.

"Please, Ms. Potts. I don't have any ID and I have three dollars and ninety-six cents left. I have nowhere else to go." I wanted to sit down and cry.

"But how do I know you're who you say you are?" She put the phone down on the counter between us and hit the speaker button. Tony didn't say a word.

"Tony brought a bunch of art into my office a few weeks ago," I started.

"Too easy." They said it in unison.

"The Starry Night was fake, but the Sunflowers were real. The hideous art deco Iron Man print was the real focal point of the room though," I continued. Potts shook her head, still not convinced.

"He added pages to my Thor scrapbook that wound up having some sort of computer chip embed in them that allowed him to hack the SHIELD servers and discover Agent Coulson was still alive," I concluded. I had nothing else. Potts went pale.

"Phil Coulson?" She shrieked, "Tony, Phil is alive and you didn't tell me?" If she'd been able to beat him through the phone, I think she would have. The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out, then stepped back in. Potts spun around and stalked toward the mirrored doors, practically glowing red with rage.

"Pepper –"

"Oh no you –"

"Pepper, Annie needs me alive if I'm going to help her." He cut her off and darted around her, pocketing the phone. I was so relieved on seeing him that I slumped down against the security desk and started to cry.


End file.
